


Dauntlessly Divergent

by DDBB19



Series: Dauntlessly Divergent [1]
Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Annoying Eric, BAMF Tris, Bold Tris, Divergence trafficking, Undercover operatives, Will add more as I update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 72,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3675498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DDBB19/pseuds/DDBB19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GOING THROUGH SOME MAJOR EDITING ATM. I DON'T KNOW WHAt'S GOING TO HAPPEN WITH IT BUT I WILL BE ADDING SOME THINGS IN, SO PLEASE BEAR WITH ME <3</p><p>Tris has some amnesia. She has half memories and blank spots from her childhood.<br/>Dauntless initiation changes that. As it turns out, she's a Reaper.<br/>There are ten of them in Dauntless. Some in other factions.<br/>Max is her handler and the war on Abnegation is fast approaching.<br/>Would you like to see what happens?</p><p>I do NOT own the Divergent series!<br/>This is NOT beta-read, all mistakes are my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, my first fic in a while. I haven't even uploaded the next chapter for my last fic but this idea would NOT leave me alone. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing.

Initiation day and I’ve just jumped from a train onto a roof. My elbow’s skinned and I’m being picked on because I came from Abnegation. “Ooh, scandalous! A Stiff flashing some skin.” I grin in his direction and watch as he becomes much less smug.  
 “You think this is a Stiff showing skin?” I walk to the other side of the roof where a man is standing on a ledge as if he’s not several stories up.  
His eyes sweep over the crowd of initiates and Dauntless before addressing us.  
 “Listen up! My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction!” He’s extremely familiar but I can’t remember where I know him from. He is older than the others, with deep creases in his dark skin and gray hair at his temples, and he stands on a ledge like it’s a sidewalk. Like someone didn’t just fall to her death from it. “Several stories below us is the members’ entrance to our compound. If you can’t muster the will to jump off, you don’t belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first.”  
 “You want us to jump off a _ledge_?” asks an Erudite girl. She is a few inches taller than I am, with mousy hair and big lips. Her mouth hangs open.  
I don’t know why it shocks her.  
 “Yes,” Max says. He looks amused.  
 “Is there water at the bottom or something?”  
 “Who knows?” He raises his eyebrows.

The crowd in front of the initiates splits in half, making a wide path for us. I look around. No one looks eager to leap off the building – their eyes are everywhere but on Max. Some of them nurse minor wounds or brush gravel from their clothes. I glance at Peter, the guy that was teasing me and see that he is picking at his cuticles, trying to act casual.  
 I am proud. I am brave. And I sure as hell won’t let anyone tell me differently! It will get me into trouble someday, but today it makes me brave. I walk towards the ledge and hear snickers behind me.

Max steps aside, leaving my way clear. I walk up to the ledge and look down. Wind whips through my clothes, making the fabric snap. The building I’m on forms one side of a square with three other buildings. In the centre of the square is a huge hole in the concrete. I can’t see what’s at the bottom but I know that this is a scare tactic. I will land safely.

I step back slightly and remove my jacket. I remove my dress to reveal black mid-thigh length shorts, a black sports bra, my running shoes and muscle. I look at the boy that was teasing me, “How is, that for skin, dip shit?”  
 I look up and into the faces of the Dauntless behind me and when I catch Max’s eyes, he gives a minute nod and, is that pride? Why would he be proud that I jump first? I don’t know why but it feels like I know him. I look at the hole again, hop onto the ledge and stand facing the crowd. I see the shocked expressions of the other initiates and grin, “See you pansy cakes on the other side!” I laugh and then I’m falling backwards.

The air howls in my ears as the ground surges toward me, growing and expanding, or I surge toward the ground, my heart pounding so fast it hurts, every muscle in my body tensing as the falling sensation drags at my stomach. The hole surrounds me and I drop into darkness.  
I hit something hard. It gives way beneath me and cradles my body. The impact knocks the wind out of me and I wheeze, struggling to breaths again. My arms and legs sting.  
A net. There is a net at the bottom of the hole. I look up at the building and laugh, half relieved, half hysterical. My body shakes and I cover my face with my hands. I just jumped off a roof.

I have to stand on solid ground again. I see a few hands stretching to me at the edge of the net, so I grab the first one I reach and pull myself across. I roll off, and I would have fallen face-first onto a wood floor if he had not caught me.  
‘He’ is the young man attached to the hand I grabbed. He has a spare upper lip and a full lower lip. He eyes are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue.  
His hands grip my arms, but he releases me a moment after I stand upright again.  
“Thanks,” I say.

We stand on a platform ten feet above the ground. Around us is an open cavern.  
“Can’t believe it,” a voice says behind him. It belongs to a dark-haired girl with three silver rings through her right eyebrow. She smirks at me. “You’re the Stiff I see running every morning and you’re the first to jump. That’s unheard of.”  
“There’s a reason why she left them, Lauren,” he says. His voice is deep and it rumbles. “What’s your name?”  
“Um...” I don’t know why I hesitate. But ‘Beatrice’ just doesn’t sound right anymore.  
“Think about it,” he says, a faint smile curling his lips. “You don’t get to pick again.”

A new place, a new name. I can be remade here.  
“Tris,” I say firmly. “I did have a nickname but that disappeared with the friend that gave me it.”  
“Tris,” Lauren repeats, grinning. “Make the announcement, Four.”  
The boy – Four – looks over shoulder and shouts, “First jumper – Tris!”

A crowd materialises from the darkness as my eyes adjust. They cheer and pump their fists, and then another person drops into the net. Her screams follow her down. Christina. A friend I made on the train on the way here. Everyone laughs, but they follow their laughter with more cheering.  
Four sets his hand on my shoulder and says, “Welcome to Dauntless.”

When all the initiates are on solid ground again, Lauren and Four lead us through a narrow tunnel. The walls are made of stone, and the ceiling slopes, so I feel like I am descending deep into the heart of earth. The tunnel is lit at long intervals so in the dark space between each dim lamp, I fear that I am lost until a shoulder bumps mine. In the circles of light I am safe again.  
The Erudite boy in front of me stops abruptly, and I smack into him hitting my nose on his shoulder. I stumble back and rub my nose as I recover my senses. The whole crowd has stopped, and our three leaders stand in front of us, arms folded.

“This is where we divide,” Lauren says. “Dauntless-born initiates are with me. I assume you don’t need a tour of the place.”  
She smiles and beckons toward the Dauntless-born initiates. They break away from the group and dissolve into the shadows. I watch the last heel pass out of the light and look at those of us left. Most of the initiates were from Dauntless, so only nine people remain. Of those, I am the only Abnegation transfer, and there are no Amity transfers. The rest are from Erudite and, surprisingly, Candor. It must require bravery to be honest all the time. I wouldn’t know.

Four addresses us next. “Most of the time I work in the control room but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor,” he says. “My name is Four.”  
Christina asks, “Four? Like the number?”  
“Yes,” Four says. “Got a problem with that?”  
“No.”  
“Good. We’re about to go into the Pit, which you’ll learn to love someday. It-“  
Christina snickers, “The Pit? Clever name.”  
Four walks up to Christina and leans his face close to hers. His eyes narrow, and for a second he just stares at her.  
“What’s your name?” he asks quietly.  
“Christina,” she squeaks.  
“Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction,” he hisses. “The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got it?”  
She nods.

Four starts toward the shadow at the end of the tunnel. The crowd of initiates moves on in silence.  
“What a jerk,” she mumbles.  
“I guess he doesn’t like to be laughed at,” I reply.  
It would probably be wise to keep as much distance as possible from Four, I realise. He seemed placid to me on the platform, but something about that stillness makes me wary now.  
Four pushes a set of double doors open and we walk into the place he called ‘the Pit.’

“Oh,” Christina whispers. “I get it.”  
‘Pit’ is the best word for it. It is an underground cavern so huge I can’t see the other end of it from where I stand, at the bottom. Uneven rock walls raise several stories above my head. Built into the stone walls are places for food, clothing, supplies, and leisure activities. Narrow paths and steps carved from rock connect them. There are no barriers to keep people from falling over the side.  
A slant of orange light stretches across one of the rock walls. Forming the roof across the Pit are panes of glass and, above them, a building that lets in sunlight. It must have looked like just another city building when we passed it on the train.  
Blue lanterns dangle at random intervals above the stone paths, similar to the ones that lit the Choosing room. They grow brighter as the sunlight dies.  
People are everywhere, all dressed in black, all shouting and talking, expressive, gesturing. I don’t see any elderly people in the crowd. Are there any old Dauntless? Do they not last that long, or are they sent away when they can’t jump off moving trains anymore?  
A group of children run down a narrow path with no railing and it brings up memories of the orderly Abnegation sector.

“If you follow me,” Four says, “I’ll show you the chasm.”  
He leads us to the right side of the Pit, which is conspicuously dark. I squint and see that the floor I stand on now ends at an iron barrier. As we approach the railing, I hear a roar – water, fast-moving water, crashing against rocks.

I look over the side. The floor drops off at a sharp angle, and several stories below us is a river, Gushing water strikes the wall beneath me and sprays upward. To my left, the water is calmer, but to my right, it is white, battling with rock.  
“The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!” Four shouts. “A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You have been warned.”  
“This is incredible,” says Christina, as we all move away from the railing.  
“Incredible is the word,” I say, nodding.

Four leads us to the dormitory and tells us to get changed and be outside in five minutes. I pick a bunk, grab a box from underneath the bed and change quickly. I get some snide comments but I’m not bothered about my body. I know I’m in exceptional shape for a ‘Stiff’.

Once all the initiates are out in the hallway, Four leads us back to the Pit and toward a gaping hole in the wall. The room beyond is well-lit enough that I can see where we’re going: a dining hall full of people and clattering silverware. When we walk in, the Dauntless inside stand, they applaud and stamp their feet, they shout. The noise surrounds me and fills me. Christina smiles, and a second later, so do I.

We look for empty seats. Christina and I discover a mostly empty table at the side of the room and I find myself sitting between her and Four. In the centre of the table is a platter of food I don’t recognise: circular pieces of meat wedged between round bread slices. I pinch one between my fingers, unsure what to make of it.  
Four nudge me with his elbow.  
“It’s beef,” he says. “Put this on it.” He passes me a small bowl full of red sauce.  
“You’ve never had a hamburger before?” asks Christina, her eyes wide.  
“No,” I say. “Is that what it’s called?”  
“Stiffs eat plain food,” Four says, nodding at Christina.  
“Why?” she asks.  
I shrug. “Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary.”  
She smirks. “No wonder you left.”  
“Yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It was just because of the food.”  
The corner of Four’s mouth twitches.

The doors to the cafeteria open and a hush falls over the room. I glance over my shoulder. A young man walks in and it is quiet enough that I can hear his footsteps. He’s just over six feet tall and is built like a house.  
“Who’s that?” hisses Christina.  
“His name is Eric,” says Four. “He’s a Dauntless leader.”  
“Seriously? But he’s so young.”  
Four gives her a grave look. “Age doesn’t matter here.”  
I can tell she’s about to ask a stupid question but Eric’s eyes stop scanning the room and he starts towards a table. He starts toward our table and drops into the seat across from me. He offers no greeting, so neither do we.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?” he asks, nodding to Christina and me.  
Four says, “This is Tris and Christina, first and second jumpers.”  
“Ooh, the Stiff,” says Eric, smirking at me. “We’ll see how long you last.”  
I look at him and grin, “I suppose we will.” He has two piercings above his right eyebrow, short blond styled hair and bold tattoos on his neck and forearms. But that isn’t what makes him look menacing. His eyes are menacing, cold and calculating. I know that I am challenging him but I don’t care.

All conversation has stopped. I keep eye contact for what feels like forever. He stares at me for a while, just taking in my appearance. His eyes widen.

I hear quick footstep and Max takes a seat to Eric’s right. “You know, Nat would be proud of your decision, no matter what!” My eyes snap to Max, and that’s when I remember who he is.  
“Uncle Max?” I’m confused and realisation sets in. I feel as if my face it about to split with the smile I’m showing. I launch myself over the table and tackle him to the ground in a hug. After a few minutes, we stand back up and straighten our clothes.

“You remembered!” He takes a step back to get a good look at me, “And you grew up!”  
I reply quietly, “Yeah, but I don’t remember much. The one day I do remember clearly is the day you brought me some Dauntless cake. My mother almost killed you for that. I’ll tell you when I remember more though.” I feel eyes on us from every direction and take a look around. Most of the Dauntless look shocked that an initiate just took down one of their leaders but there are a few here and there with tears in their eyes, because they know something, about me!

I look back at Christina and Four to see equally shocked faces. Eric still looks at me in wonder. “Christina, this is my Uncle Max. Uncle Max, this is my friend, Christina. I’m sure you know the others and need no introduction.” He lets out a snort.

“Bold as always, I see! You never really grew out of that and you’re in better shape than I originally thought. Nice to meet you, Christina,” he nods in her direction and then turns to Eric. I see the amusement straight away.

“Eric, I see you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my niece. Now, you have a choice.”  
“Hell no! You are not doing this. Can we go somewhere with no cameras or anything? I am not talking about this in front of Dauntless, especially at the beginning of initiation.” I furiously whisper.

As we leave the cafeteria, I square my shoulders and meet the eyes of those crying and my brow furrows. Once the doors are closed, I hear some sobbing.  
We finally make it to a secluded and secure area. “No favouritism! No one-on-one training! Not a chance in hell. I will train with the transfers as an equal.”  
He sighs and leans against the wall. “In that case, let Eric run with you in the mornings.”  
“Um... No! How about I just do my morning run on my own, do what the other initiates are doing and we leave it at that? I don’t want or need special treatment, Uncle Max. Please, let me make my own way through initiation.”  
“We need to get your fitness levels up so I’m changing your routine. I’ve had countless Dauntless tell me about the girl from Abnegation that sprints through the city for thirty minutes every morning. I’ll give Four the details once they’ve been figured out and he’ll let you know.”  
“No. I am not bringing anyone into this. I can barely remember anything. Let me get knocked out once or twice, it might jog my memory but please, Uncle Max? No special treatment, unless there is a threat to my life!”

When I get back to the cafeteria, I see everyone waiting. I keep my head down until Eric leads us down a series of hallways without telling us where we’re going. I don’t know why a Dauntless leader would be responsible for a group of initiates, but maybe it’s just for tonight.  
He stops in front of the dormitory door and folds his arms. We gather around him.

“For those of you who don’t know, my name is Eric,” he says. “I am one of the five leaders of Dauntless. We take the initiation process very seriously here, so I volunteered to oversee most of your training.”  
The idea of a Dauntless leader overseeing our training is bad enough, but I can see that malicious glint in Eric’s eyes and I know it’s not going to be pretty.  
“Some ground rules,” he says. “You have to be in the training room by eight o’clock every day. Training takes place every day from eight to six. You are free to do whatever you like after six. You will also get some time off between each stage of initiation.”  
The phrase ‘do whatever you like’ sticks in my mind. At home, I could never do what I wanted, not even for an evening so I had to make sure I didn’t get caught running in the morning.  
“You are only permitted to leave the compound when accompanied by a Dauntless,” he adds. “You all know where we are. You’ll all be sleeping here for the next few weeks. You will notice that there are ten beds and only nine of you. We anticipated that a higher proportion of you would make it this far.  
“Anyway, in the first stage of initiation, we keep the transfers and Dauntless-born separate, but that doesn’t mean that you’ll be evaluated separately. At the end of initiation, your rankings will be determined in comparison with the Dauntless-born initiates. They are better than you are already,” I laugh, extremely loudly. He glares at me and everyone else looks at me as if I’ve grown a second head, except Christina.

“Rankings?” asks the mousy-haired Erudite girl to my right. “Why are we ranked?”  
Eric smiles, and in the blue light, his smile look wicked, like it was cut into his face with a knife.  
“Your ranking serves two purposes,” he says. “The first is that it determines the order in which you will select a job after initiation. There are only a few desirable positions available.” He lets that sink in and continues, “The second purpose is that only the top fifteen initiates are made members.”  
I almost gag. And then Christina says, “What?”  
“There are twelve Dauntless-born and nine of you. Two will be cut at the end of stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final test.”

I hear Peter ask “What do we do if we’re cut?”  
“There’s no going home to your families and there’s no space for you here. You’d leave the Dauntless compound,” shrugs Eric indifferently, “and live factionless.”  
I remember a factionless man attacking me when I was a child for no reason.  
“Stiff’s definitely out then, eh guys?” Peter, the idiot.

I crack up. Full belly laughs and when I look up, I see everyone staring at me.  
“Peter, the arrogant, cowardly piece of shit, shut your mouth,” I smile sweetly. I know my gaze has hardened. I turn to Eric, “I’ve been hearing rumours about someone and her return to Dauntless. Can you explain, please?”  
Eric perks up, “Oh, _she’s_ in the building!” I’ve never seen someone so eager.

“I don’t know. I’ve just been hearing all sorts of stuff about her. Tell me, what you know about who she is and where she comes from.”  
“I know her mother was Dauntless, her father from Erudite. I know that her mother’s best friend taught her some self defence after she was attacked and left black and blue by a crazy factionless man when she was a child. I know that she spent most of her time from the age of five training in pretty much every fighter’s style she could and I know that she is brutal and ruthless. But most of all, I know that she is highly underestimated. I know more about her but I’ll let her tell people when she’s ready! What do you know about her?”

“From what I’ve heard, I’m guessing that if she were to step into the ring with you, she’d have on your ass in under a minute. If she wanted someone dead, she could do it with one hit. I also heard that she doesn’t know who she really is. Something about losing memories after a serious blow to the head when she fell off a roof.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you know, I don't own the Divergent Trilogy. I'm just tinkering around with an already awesome story,  
> Yes, some of this is taken straight from the book or interpreted from the movie...  
> BUT! As we get further in, the changes come bigger.

It’s the first day of training, I have been for my morning run and we’re standing in the middle of the training room.

“The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second is how to win a fight,” Four presses a gun into my hands without looking at me and keeps walking. “Thankfully, if you are here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don’t need to teach you that.” I know Dauntless and I am not surprised that they expect us to hit the ground running. My body is slightly heavy from breakfast. “Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, thought difficult to drastically improve your rank over time.”

I stare at the weapon in my hand and feel a tiny thrum of excitement run through me. I never expected to be holding a gun, but I suppose that as a soldier, you have to learn to use weapons. “We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear,” says Four. “Therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; the third, primarily mental.”

“But what...” Peter yawns through his words. “What does firing a gun have to do with...bravery?” Four flips the gun in his hands, presses the barrel to Peter’s forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth.

“Wake. Up,” Four snaps. “You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it.” He lowers the gun.   
 Once the immediate threat is gone, Peters green eyes harden. I’m surprised he can stop himself from responding, after speaking his mind all his life in Candor, but he does, his cheeks red. “And to answer your question...you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you’re prepared to defend yourself.”   
 Four stops walking at the end of the row and turns on his heels. “This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me.” He faces the wall with the targets on it – one square of plywood with three red circles on it for each of us. He stands with his feet apart, holds the gun in both hands, and fires. The bang is so loud it hurts my ears and it doesn’t help that we’re inside a large building, the echo is worse. I crane my neck to look at the target. The bullet went through the middle circle.   
 I turn to my own target. My father would never approve of me firing a gun. He would say that guns are used for self-defence, if not violence, and therefore they are self-serving. I push him from my mind, set my feet shoulder-width apart, one foot slightly in front of the other and wrap both hands around the gun. It’s a bit heavier than I anticipated, but I relax my posture, square my shoulders and bend my arms slightly at the elbows. I know that it will recoil but I am prepared. I close my left eye, breathe in, aim, breathe out and pull the trigger. The bullet hits the centre target.   
 A rush of energy goes through me. I am awake, my eyes wide open, my hands warm. I lower the gun when I feel the air shift behind me and to my right. I move to the left, grabbing the hand coming towards me. I look up and see Four, “Don’t sneak up on me.”

By the time we break for lunch, my arms have a small ache and my fingers are tough to straighten. I massage them on the way to the dinner hall.   
 I move my peas around with my fork, and my thoughts drift back to Max and when Four snuck up on me earlier. I need to unlock the rest of my memories and get my body conditioned for real training.   
 “Oh, come on. You don’t remember me?” Christina asks Al as she makes a sandwich. “We were in Math together just a few days ago. And I am not a quiet person.”   
“I slept through Math most of the time,” Al replies. “It was first hour!”   
 “Tris,” says Christina. She snaps her fingers in front of my face. “You in there?”  
“What? What is it?”   
 “I asked if you remember ever taking a class with me,” she says. “I mean, no offense, but I probably wouldn’t remember you if you did. All the Abnegation looked the same to me. I mean, they still do, but now you’re not one of them!” I stare at her. As if I need her to remind me. “Sorry, am I being rude?” she asks. “I’m used to just saying whatever is on my mind. Mom used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging.”   
 “I think that’s why those factions don’t usually associate with each other,” I say, with a short laugh. Candor and Abnegation don’t hate each other the way Erudite and Abnegation do, but they avoid each other. Candor’s real problem is with Amity. Those who seek peace above all else, they say, will always deceive to keep the water calm.   
 “Can I sit here?” says Will, tapping the table with his finger.   
“What, you don’t want to hang out with your Erudite buddies?” says Christina.   
 “They aren’t my buddies,” says Will, setting his plate down. “Just because we were in the same faction doesn’t mean we get along. Plus, Edward and Myra are dating, and I would rather not be the third wheel.”   
 Edward and Myra, the other Erudite transfers, sit two tables away, so close they bump elbows as hey cut their food. Myra pauses to kiss Edward. I watch them carefully. I’ve only seen a few kisses in my life.   
 Edward turns his head and presses his lips to Myra’s. Air hisses between my teeth, and I look away. Part of me waits for them to be scolded. Another part wonders, with a touch of desperation, what it would feel like to have someone’s lips against mine.   
 “Do they have to be so public?” I say.   
“She just kissed him.” Al frowns at me. When he frowns, his thick eyebrows touch his eyelashes. “It’s not like they’re stripping naked.”   
 “A kiss is not something you do in public.” Al, Will, and Christina all give me the same knowing smile.   
 “What?” I say.   
 “Your Abnegation is showing,” says Christina. “The rest of us are all right with a little affection in public.”   
 “Oh.” I shrug. “Well…I guess I’ll have to get over it, then.”   
 “Or you can stay frigid,” says Will, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “You know. If you want.” Christina throws a roll at him. He catches it and bites it.   
 “Don’t be mean to her,” she says. “Frigidity is in her nature. Sort of like being a know-it-all is in yours.”   
 “I am not frigid!” I exclaim.   
 “Don’t worry about it,” says Will. “It’s endearing. Look, you’re all red.” The comment only makes my face hotter. Everyone else chuckles. I force a laugh and, after a few seconds, it comes naturally. It feels good to laugh again.

 After lunch, Four leads us to a new room. It’s huge, with a wood floor that is cracked and creaky and has a large circle painted in the middle. On the left wall is a green board—a chalkboard. My Lower Levels teacher used one, but I haven’t seen one since then. Maybe it has something to do with Dauntless priorities: training comes first, technology comes second.  
 Our names are written on the board in alphabetical order. Hanging at three-foot intervals along one end of the room are faded black punching bags. We line up behind them and Four stands in the middle, where we can all see him.   
 “As I said this morning,” says Four, “next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges—which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless.” I can’t even think of life as a Dauntless. All I can think about is making it through initiation. I will make it through. “We will go over technique today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other,” says Four. “So I recommend that you pay attention. Those who don’t learn fast will get hurt.”

 I don’t bother paying attention. I just stare at the punching bag before me and wait until he’s finished demonstrating. I stretch off, close my eyes, block everything out and just do what feels natural. My posture is relaxed, my midsection is tight.   
 “Lately I've been wondering what's been going on, I've been here before but I don't remember when. And every time we get to where we're entering, I feel my beliefs and hopes surrendering.   
 “But I know I'll be coming home soon, and yes I know, that I'll be coming home soon.   
 “'Cause like the enemies that we are battling, I am nothing but a human alien, left with nothing else but to keep wandering down this path whilst stopping my hands trembling.   
 “Because I know that I'll be coming home soon, and yes I know, that I'll be coming home soon with a soldier's eyes. With a soldier's eyes. With a soldier's eyes. With a soldier's eyes.   
 “I've seen inside the devil's dreams where young men die, and graveyards open up their arms for mothers left to cry. I have seen the bleeding and I hate what we've done, but just like every other fool here I'll keep marching on.   
 “Because I know that I'll be coming home soon, and yes I know, that I'll be coming home soon with a soldier's eyes. With a soldier's eyes. With a soldier's eyes. With a soldier's eyes.”

 I don’t know what I did, but when I look up, my fellow initiates are gawking. Did I do something wrong? My knuckles and feet are red and sore and so, I shake them out.   
 “You guys are gonna catch flies like that!” I turn to Four, “Did I do something wrong?”   
 “Who taught you all that?”   
 “All what?” I don’t understand.   
 “Don’t play with me, Tris. I’ve never seen an Abnegation initiate come here and be able to do what you just done.” He steps forward. “You grabbed my arm earlier when I snuck up on you and you didn’t hear or see me coming. So, who taught you?”   
 My spine stiffens as I fold my arms across my chest. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Four! I’ve been here, what, less than a day? The only thing I’ve learned is to shoot a gun,” I say. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t like the sound of accusations especially when I’ve done nothing wrong. I just done what came naturally to me and that’s it.” I lift my chin up defiantly.

 Everyone turns to the doors as they open. Max and Eric stride through. “Alright initiates, who’s ready for some one-on-one?” asks Eric. I hear groans go through the group.   
 “I’m being accused of something I have no knowledge of and I won’t do another damn thing until the situation is rectified!” I glare pointedly at Four.   
Max pulls a small Dauntless computer out of his pocket and holds it out towards me. The corners of my lips pull down as I take it. I turn it the right way up and hit play. It’s the security feed for the training room.

 I see myself standing in front of the punching bag, the others just turning to theirs after Four’s demonstration. I hear myself sing and then I am surprised. I take a swing at the bag, following through with my elbow. My eyes are clearly closed throughout the entire thing. I take a step back, jump and kick high, landing and going for a sweep, narrowly missing the chain holding the bag in place.   
 I feel my eyes widen when I see the rapid blows. I have a vague memory of my mother, Max, me and someone else, in the middle of a field. My eyes are squeezed shut, I’m shaking my head. Finally, the memory stops playing. I scrub my hands over my face and mutter, “Stupid memories! Stupid fall! Stupid, stupid, stupid!”   
As I come back to myself I glare at Max.   
 “What in the hell is going on?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will update when I can.   
> Unfortunately, I have a bit of a cold and a 2 year old son so, happy days!  
> I do NOT own Divergent, I'm just messing around.

“Tris, come join me on the mat.” Max leads me towards it. “It’s just me and you, a friendly sparring session with no competition. Everyone else, out! Eric, you know what to do.”  
 When the doors close, I step into the centre of the mat, stretch my neck, roll my shoulders, close my eyes and bow my head. I hear his very light footsteps and air movement behind me and to the left. My eyes snap open of their own accord as soon as the air movement is close enough to my ear. I move my torso to the right, grabbing his left arm with my right hand. I quickly bring my left elbow up and give him two blows to the face.  
 “Damn muscle memory,” chuckles Max. He shakes his head to clear the dizziness. “It’s the singing you have to watch out for though. When you start singing, there’s next to nothing that can bring you out of it.”  
“What are you talking about?” I shout.  
 “You don’t need training, you just need conditioning. Raven knows you don’t remember her either. That was the crying when we left the cafeteria on the first day. You know, you really should be training with the Dauntless-born. You’re too good to be a transfer.”  
 I start pacing. “Give me a few hours to think. I need to process this.”  
 I am left alone until dinner.

 “May I speak with you, initiate?” I know that voice but I don’t know why. I only have very few memories from between the ages of five and eleven and I’m desperately hoping they come back, and soon!  
I look up into my own eyes, my mother’s eyes and that’s when I know. “Aunt Raven?”  
“Come with me, please, I have some things I need to talk to you about.” She straightens up and waits for me to stand before taking me through a series of tunnels that lead to her apartment. Once we’re inside and seated, she begins explaining.  
 “Max told me about your tiny sparring session earlier. He thought I’d be able to jog some memories.” She gives a small smile.  
 “What?” My eyes are wide and I feel like I’m going to throw up.  
 “I know that you don’t remember but I have some pictures from during those years if you’d like to see them?”  
 I nod.  
 She goes to a bookshelf and removes a box. When she’s seated again, she hands it to me and I open it. The very top picture is of Max and myself in the middle of the very same room we have been using for training. I’m tiny and I’m mimicking his posture. As I move through the stack, I see myself getting older day by day alongside Eric, the pictures progressing to show movement. When the stack is finished, I put the pictures back in the box and stand abruptly. I need to get out of here. I need to run.  
 “I’m sorry, Aunt Raven but this is a lot to process.” I dash to the door and sprint left. I turn left and right randomly and end up outside the dormitory. I walk in like nothing happened, slightly breathless and see that Christina, Al and Will are there.  
 “Come on, I need something to do to take my mind off things!”  
 Al, who ends up walking in front of us, turns around once we reach the Pit and announces, “I want to get a tattoo.”  
 From behind us, Will asks, “A tattoo of what?”  
 “I don’t know.” Al laughs. “I just want to feel like I’ve actually left the old faction. Stop crying about it.” When we don’t respond, he adds, “I know you’ve heard me.”  
 “Yeah, learn to quiet down, will you?” Christina pokes Al’s thick arm. “I think you’re right. We’re half in, half out right now. If we want all the way in, we should look the part.”  
 She gives me a look.  
 “No. I will not cut my hair,” I say, “or dye it a strange colour. Or pierce my face.”  
 “How about your bellybutton?” she says.  
 “Or your nipple?” Will says with a snort.  
 I groan.

 Now that training is done for the day, we can do whatever we want until it’s time to sleep. The idea makes me feel almost giddy, although that might be from fatigue.  
 The Pit is swarming with people. Christina announces that she and I will meet Al and Will at the tattoo parlour and drags me toward the clothing place. We stumble up the path, climbing higher above the Pit floor, scattering stones with our shoes.  
 “What is wrong with my clothes?” I say. “I’m not wearing gray anymore.”  
 “They’re ugly and gigantic.” She sighs. “Will you just let me help you? If you don’t like what I put you in, you never have to wear it again, I promise.”  
 Ten minutes later I stand in front of a mirror in the clothing place wearing a knee-length black dress. The skirt isn’t full, but it isn’t stuck to my thighs, either—unlike the first one she picked out, which I refused. Goose bumps appear on my bare arms. She slips the tie from my hair and I shake it out of its braid so it hangs wavy over my shoulders.  
 Then she holds up a black pencil.  
 “Eyeliner,” she says.  
 “You aren’t going to be able to make me pretty, you know.” I close my eyes and hold still. She runs the tip of the pencil along the line of my eyelashes. I imagine standing before my family in these clothes, and my stomach twists like I might be sick.  
 “Who cares about pretty? I’m going for noticeable.”  
 I open my eyes and for the first time stare openly at my own reflection. My heart rate picks up as I do, like I am breaking the rules and will be scolded for it. It will be difficult to break the habits of thinking Abnegation instilled in me, like tugging a single thread from a complex work of embroidery. But I will find new habits, new thoughts and new rules. I will become something else.  
 My eyes were blue before, but a dull, grayish blue—the eyeliner makes them piercing. With my hair framing my face, my features look softer and fuller. I am not pretty—my eyes are too big and my nose is too long—but I can see that Christina is right. My face is noticeable.

Looking at myself now isn’t like seeing myself for the first time; it’s like seeing someone else for the first time. Beatrice was a girl I saw in stolen moments at the mirror, who kept quiet at the dinner table. This is someone whose eyes claim mine and don’t release me; this is Tris.  
 “See?” she says. “You’re…striking.”  
 Under the circumstances, it’s the best compliment she could have given me. I smile at her in the mirror.  
 “You like it?” she says.  
 “Yeah.” I nod. “I look like…a different person.” She laughs.  
 “That a good thing or a bad thing?”  
 I look at myself head-on again. For the first time, the idea of leaving my Abnegation identity behind doesn’t make me nervous; it gives me hope. “A good thing.” I shake my head. “Sorry, I’ve just never been allowed to stare at my reflection for this long.”  
 “Really?” Christina shakes her head. “Abnegation is a strange faction, I have to tell you.”

 “Let’s go watch Al get tattooed,” I say. Despite the fact that I have left my old faction behind, I don’t want to criticize it yet.  
 At home, my mother and I picked up nearly identical stacks of clothing every six months or so. It’s easy to allocate resources when everyone gets the same thing, but everything is more varied at the Dauntless compound. Every Dauntless gets a certain amount of points to spend per month, and the dress costs one of them.  
 Christina and I race down the narrow path to the tattoo place. When we get there, Al is sitting in the chair already, and a small, narrow man with more ink than bare skin is drawing a spider on his arm.  
 Will and Christina flip through books of pictures, elbowing each other when they find a good one. When they sit next to each other, I notice how opposite they are, Christina dark and lean, Will pale and solid, but alike in their easy smiles.  
 I wander around the room, looking at the artwork on the walls. These days, the only artists are in Amity. Abnegation sees art as impractical, and its appreciation as time that could be spent serving others, so though I have seen works of art in textbooks, I have never been in a decorated room before. It makes the air feel close and warm, and I could get lost here for hours without noticing. I skim the wall with my fingertips. A picture of a hawk on one wall reminds me of Tori’s tattoo. Beneath it is a sketch of a bird in flight.  
 “It’s a raven,” a voice behind me says. “Pretty, right?”

I turn to see Tori standing there. I feel like I am back in the aptitude test room, with the mirrors all around me and the wires connected to my forehead. I didn’t expect to see her again.  
 “Well, hello there.” She smiles. “Never thought I would see you again. Beatrice, is it?”  
 “Tris, actually,” I say. “Do you work here?”  
 “I do. I just took a break to administer the tests. Most of the time I’m here.” She taps her chin. “I recognize that name. You were the cocky and confident first jumper, weren’t you?”  
 “Yes, I was.”  
 “Well done.”  
 “Thanks.” I touch the sketch of the bird.  
 “Want a tattoo?” she says.

The bird sketch holds my attention. I never intended to get pierced or tattooed when I came here. I know that if I do, it will place another wedge between me and my family that I can never remove. And if my life here continues as it has been, it may soon be the least of the wedges between us.  
 But I understand now what Tori said about her tattoo representing a fear she overcame—a reminder of where she was, as well as a reminder of where she is now. Maybe there is a way to honour my old life as I embrace my new one.  
 “Yes,” I say. “Three of these flying birds.” I touch my collarbone, marking the path of their flight—toward my heart. One for each member of the family I left behind.

 

“Since there are an odd number of you, one of you won’t be fighting today,” says Four, stepping away from the board in the training room. He gives me a look. The space next to my name is blank. The knot in my stomach unravels. A reprieve that’ll, hopefully, let me think straight.  
 “This isn’t good,” says Christina, nudging me with her elbow.   
  She says, “Look. I’m up against the Tank.” Christina and I sat together at breakfast, I’ve never had a friend like her before. Susan was better friends with Caleb than with me, and Robert only went where Susan went. I guess I haven’t really had a friend, period. It’s impossible to have real friendship when no one feels like they can accept help or even talk about themselves. That won’t happen here. I already know more about Christina than I ever knew about Susan, and it’s only been two days.  
 “The Tank?” I find Christina’s name on the board. Written next to it is ‘Molly.’  
 “Yeah, Peter’s slightly more feminine-looking minion,” she says, nodding toward the cluster of people on the other side of the room. Molly is tall like Christina, but that’s where the similarities end. She has broad shoulders, bronze skin, and a bulbous nose.  
 “Those three”—Christina points at Peter, Drew, and Molly in turn—“have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically. I hate them.”  
 Will and Al stand across from each other in the arena. They put their hands up by their faces to protect themselves, as Four taught us, and shuffle in a circle around each other. Al is half a foot taller than Will, and twice as broad. As I stare at him, I realize that even his facial features are big—big nose, big lips, big eyes. This fight won’t last long.  
 I glance at Peter and his friends. Drew is shorter than both Peter and Molly, but he’s built like a boulder, and his shoulders are always hunched. His hair is orange-red, the colour of an old carrot. “What’s wrong with them?” I say.  
 “Peter is pure evil. When we were kids, he would pick fights with people from other factions and then, when an adult came to break it up, he’d cry and make up some story about how the other kid started it. And of course, they believed him, because we were Candor and we couldn’t lie. Ha ha.” Christina wrinkles her nose and adds, “Drew is just his sidekick. I doubt he has an independent thought in his brain. And Molly…she’s the kind of person who fries ants with a magnifying glass just to watch them flail around.”

In the arena, Al punches Will hard in the jaw. I wince. Across the room, Eric smirks at Al, and turns one of the rings in his eyebrow.  
 Will stumbles to the side, one hand pressed to his face, and blocks Al’s next punch with his free hand. Judging by his grimace, blocking the punch is as painful as a blow would have been. Al is slow, but powerful.  
 Peter, Drew, and Molly cast furtive looks in our direction and then pull their heads together, whispering.  
 “I think they know we’re talking about them,” I say.  
 “So? They already know I hate them.”  
 “They do? How?”  
 Christina fakes a smile at them and waves. I chuckle at her.   
 Will hooks a foot around one of Al’s legs and yanks back, knocking Al to the ground. Al scrambles to his feet.  
 “Because I’ve told them,” she says, through the gritted teeth of her smile. Her teeth are straight on top and crooked on the bottom. She looks at me. “We try to be pretty honest about our feelings in Candor. Plenty of people have told me that they don’t like me. And plenty of people haven’t. Who cares?”  
 “We just…weren’t supposed to hurt people,” I say.  
 “I like to think I’m helping them by hating them,” she says. “I’m reminding them that they aren’t God’s gift to humankind.”  
 I laugh a little at that and focus on the arena again. Will and Al face each other for a few more seconds, more hesitant than they were before. Will flicks his pale hair from his eyes. They glance at Four like they’re waiting for him to call the fight off, but he stands with his arms folded, giving no response. A few feet away from him, Eric checks his watch.

After a few seconds of circling, Eric shouts, “Do you think this is a leisure activity? Should we break for nap-time? Fight each other!”  
 “But…” Al straightens, letting his hands down, and says, “Is it scored or something? When does the fight end?”  
 “It ends when one of you is unable to continue,” says Eric.  
 “According to Dauntless rules,” Four says, “one of you could also concede.”  
 Eric narrows his eyes at Four. “According to the old rules,” he says. “In the new rules, no one concedes.”  
 “A brave man acknowledges the strength of others,” Four replies.  
 “A brave man never surrenders.”  
 Four and Eric stare at each other for a few seconds. I feel like I am looking at two different kinds of Dauntless—the honorable kind, and the ruthless kind. But even I know that in this room, it’s Eric, the youngest leader of the Dauntless, who has the authority.  
 Beads of sweat dot Al’s forehead; he wipes them with the back of his hand.  
 “This is ridiculous,” Al says, shaking his head. “What’s the point of beating him up? We’re in the same faction!”  
 “Oh, you think it’s going to be that easy?” Will asks, grinning. “Go on. Try to hit me, slowpoke.” Will puts his hands up again. I see determination in Will’s eyes that wasn’t there before. Does he really believe he can win? One hard shot to the head and Al will knock him out cold.  
 That is, if he can actually hit Will. Al tries a punch, and Will ducks, the back of his neck shining with sweat. He dodges another punch, slipping around Al and kicking him hard in the back. Al lurches forward and turns.  
 When I was younger, I read a book about grizzly bears. There was a picture of one standing on its hind legs with its paws outstretched, roaring. That is how Al looks now. He charges at Will, grabbing his arm so he can’t slip away, and punches him hard in the jaw.  
 I watch the light leave Will’s eyes, which are pale green, like celery. They roll back into his head, and all the tension falls from his body. He slips from Al’s grasp, dead weight, and crumples to the floor. Cold rushes down my back and fills my chest.  
 Al’s eyes widen, and he crouches next to Will, tapping his cheek with one hand. The room falls silent as we wait for Will to respond. For a few seconds, he doesn’t, just lies on the ground with an arm bent beneath him. Then he blinks, clearly dazed.

“Get him up,” Eric says. He stares with greedy eyes at Will’s fallen body, like the sight is a meal and he hasn’t eaten in weeks. The curl of his lip is cruel.  
 Four turns to the chalkboard and circles Al’s name. Victory.  
 “Next up—Molly and Christina!” shouts Eric. Al pulls Will’s arm across his shoulders and drags him out of the arena.  
 Christina cracks her knuckles. I would wish her luck, but I don’t know what good that would do. Christina isn’t weak, but she’s much narrower than Molly. Hopefully her height will help her.  
 Across the room, Four supports Will from the waist and leads him out. Al stands for a moment by the door, watching them go.  
 Four leaving makes Eric unpredictable. He’s like a babysitter who spends his time sharpening knives.  
 Christina tucks her hair behind her ears. It is chin-length, black, and pinned back with silver clips. She cracks another knuckle. She looks nervous, and no wonder—who wouldn’t be nervous after watching Will collapse like a rag doll?  
 I snap to attention when Christina kicks Molly in the side. Molly gasps and grits her teeth like she’s about to growl through them. A lock of stringy black hair falls across her face, but she doesn’t brush it away.

Al stands next to me, but I’m too focused on the new fight to look at him, or congratulate him on winning, assuming that’s what he wants. I am not sure.  
 Molly smirks at Christina, and without warning, dives, hands outstretched, at Christina’s midsection. She hits her hard, knocking her down, and pins her to the ground. Christina thrashes, but Molly is heavy and doesn’t budge.  
 She punches, and Christina moves her head out of the way, but Molly just punches again, and again, until her fist hits Christina’s jaw, her nose, her mouth. Without thinking, I grab Al’s arm and squeeze it as tightly as I can. I just need something to hold on to. Blood runs down the side of Christina’s face and splatters on the ground next to her cheek. This is the first time I have ever prayed for someone to fall unconscious.  
 But she doesn’t. Christina screams and drags one of her arms free. She punches Molly in the ear, knocking her off-balance, and wriggles free. She comes to her knees, holding her face with one hand. The blood streaming from her nose is thick and dark and covers her fingers in seconds. She screams again and crawls away from Molly. I can tell by the heaving of her shoulders that she’s sobbing, but I can barely hear her over the throbbing in my ears.  
 Please go unconscious!  
 Molly kicks Christina’s side, sending her sprawling on her back. Al frees his hand and pulls me tight to his side. I clench my teeth to keep from crying out. I had no sympathy for Al the first night, but I am not cruel yet; the sight of Christina clutching her rib cage makes me want to stand between her and Molly.

“Stop!” wails Christina as Molly pulls her foot back to kick again. She holds out a hand. “Stop! I’m…” She coughs. “I’m done.”  
 Molly smiles and I sigh with relief. Al sighs too, his rib cage lifting and falling against my shoulder. Eric walks toward the centre of the arena, his movements slow, and stands over Christina with his arms folded. He says quietly, “I’m sorry, what did you say? You’re done?”  
 Christina pushes herself to her knees. When she takes her hand from the ground, it leaves a red handprint behind. She pinches her nose to stop the bleeding and nods.  
 “Get up,” he says. If he had yelled, I might not have felt like everything inside my stomach was about to come out of it. If he had yelled, I would have known that the yelling was the worst he planned to do. But his voice is quiet and his words precise. He grabs Christina’s arm, yanks her to her feet, and drags her out the door.  
 “Follow me,” he says to the rest of us.  
 And we do.  
 I feel the roar of the river in my chest.

We stand near the railing. The Pit is almost empty; it is the middle of the afternoon, though it feels like it’s been night for days.  
 If there were people around, I doubt any of them would help Christina. We are with Eric, for one thing, and for another, the Dauntless have different rules—rules that brutality does not violate.  
 Eric shoves Christina against the railing.  
 “Climb over it,” he says.  
 “What?” She says it like she expects him to relent, but her wide eyes and ashen face suggest otherwise.  
  Eric will not back down. “Climb over the railing,” says Eric again, pronouncing each word slowly. “If you can hang over the chasm for five minutes, I will forget your cowardice. If you can’t, I will not allow you to continue initiation.”  
 The railing is narrow and made of metal. The spray from the river coats it, making it slippery and cold. Even if Christina is brave enough to hang from the railing for five minutes, she may not be able to hold on. Either she decides to be factionless, or she risks death.  
 When I close my eyes, I imagine her falling onto the jagged rocks below and shudder.  
 “Fine,” she says, her voice shaking.  
 She is tall enough to swing her leg over the railing. Her foot shakes. She puts her toe on the ledge as she lifts her other leg over. Facing us, she wipes her hands on her pants and holds on to the railing so hard her knuckles turn white. Then she takes one foot off the ledge. And the other. I see her face between the bars of the barrier, determined, her lips pressed together.  
 Next to me, Al sets his watch.

 For the first minute and a half, Christina is fine. Her hands stay firm around the railing and her arms don’t shake. I start to think she might make it and show Eric how foolish he was to doubt her.  
 But then the river hits the wall, and white water sprays against Christina’s back. Her face strikes the barrier, and she cries out. Her hands slip so she’s just holding on by her fingertips. She tries to get a better grip, but now her hands are wet.  
 “Eric,” I scream. His eyes snap to mine. “If she falls, you’re next!” It is not a threat, it is a promise and I will go through with it. My temper is rising.  
 As far as I know, Christina hasn’t cried since we got here, but now her face crumples and she lets out a sob that is louder than the river. Another wave hits the wall and the spray coats her body. One of the droplets hits my cheek. Her hands slip again, and this time, one of them falls from the railing, so she’s hanging by four fingertips.  
 “Come on, Christina,” says Al, his low voice surprisingly loud. She looks at him. He claps. “Come on, grab it again. You can do it. Grab it.”  
 Christina swings her arm, fumbling for the railing. No one else cheers her on, but Al brings his big hands together and shouts, his eyes holding hers. I wish I could; I wish I could move, but I just stare at her and wonder how long I have been this disgustingly selfish. I stare at Al’s watch. Four minutes have passed. He elbows me hard in the shoulder.  
 “Come on,” I say. My voice is a whisper. I clear my throat. “One minute left,” I say, louder this time. Christina’s other hand finds the railing again. Her arms shake so hard I wonder if the earth is quaking beneath me, jiggling my vision, and I just didn’t notice.  
 “Come on, Christina,” Al and I say, and as our voices join, we step forward.  
 “I am warning you, Eric. She falls and you won’t make it to the other side of the bridge!” My pulse is racing, my breathing is faster.

 Another wave of water splashes against Christina’s back, and she shrieks as both her hands slip off the railing. A scream launches from my mouth. It sounds like it belongs to someone else.  
 But she doesn’t fall. She grabs the bars of the barrier. Her fingers slide down the metal until I can’t see her head anymore; they are all I see.  
 Al’s watch reads 5:00. “Five minutes are up,” he says, almost spitting the words at Eric.  
 Eric checks his own watch. He takes his time, tilting his wrist, all while my stomach twists. When I blink, I see Rita’s sister on the pavement below the train tracks, limbs bent at strange angles; I see Rita screaming and sobbing; I see myself turning away.  
 “Fine,” Eric says. “You can come up, Christina.”  
 Al walks toward the railing.  
 “No,” Eric says. “She has to do it on her own.”  
 “No, she doesn’t,” Al growls. “She did what you said. She’s not a coward. She did what you said.”  
 Eric doesn’t respond. Al reaches over the railing, and he’s so tall that he can reach Christina’s wrist. She grabs his forearm. Al pulls her up, his face red with frustration, and I run forward to help. I’m too short to do much good, as I suspected, but I grip Christina under the shoulder once she’s high enough, and Al and I haul her over the barrier. She drops to the ground, her face still blood-smeared from the fight, her back soaking wet, her body quivering.  
 I kneel next to her. Her eyes lift to mine, then shift to Al, and we all catch our breath together.

 

That night I dream that Christina hangs from the railing again, by her toes this time, and someone shouts that only someone who is Divergent can help her. So I run forward to pull her up, but someone shoves me over the edge, and I wake before I hit the rocks.  
 Sweat-soaked and shaky from the dream, I walk to the girls’ bathroom to shower and change. When I come back, the word “Stiff” is spray-painted across my mattress in red. The word is written smaller along the bed frame, and again on my pillow. I look around, my heart pounding with anger.  
 Peter stands behind me, whistling as he fluffs his pillow. It’s hard to believe I could hate someone who looks so kind—his eyebrows turn upward naturally, and he has a wide, white smile. “Nice decorations,” he says.  
 “Did I do something to you that I’m unaware of?” I demand. I grab the corner of a sheet and yank it away from the mattress. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we are in the same faction now.”  
 “I don’t know what you’re referring to,” he says lightly. Then he glances at me. “And you and I will never be in the same faction.”  
 I shake my head as I remove my pillowcase from the pillow. Don’t get angry, just breathe. He wants to get a rise out of me; he won’t. But every time he fluffs his pillow, I think about punching him in the gut.  
 Al walks in, and I don’t even have to ask him to help me; he just walks over and strips bedding with me. I will have to scrub the bed frame later. Al carries the stack of sheets to the trash can and together we walk toward the training room.  
 “Ignore him,” Al says. “He’s an idiot, and if you don’t get angry, he’ll stop eventually.”  
 “Yeah,” I touch my cheeks. They are still warm with an angry blush. I try to distract myself. “Did you talk to Will?” I ask quietly. “After…you know.”  
 “Yeah. He’s fine. He isn’t angry.” Al sighs. “Now I’ll always be remembered as the first guy who knocked someone out cold.”  
 “There are worse ways to be remembered. At least they won’t antagonize you.”  
 “There are better ways too.” He nudges me with his elbow, smiling. “Cocky, first jumper!”  
 Maybe I was the first jumper, but I suspect that’s not always a good thing.  
 I clear my throat. “One of you had to get knocked out, you know. If it hadn’t been him, it would have been you.”  
 “Still, I don’t want to do it again.” Al shakes his head, too many times, too fast. He sniffs. “I really don’t.”  
 We reach the door to the training room and I say, “But you have to.”  
 He has a kind face. Maybe he is too kind for Dauntless.

 I look at the chalkboard when I walk in. I didn’t have to fight yesterday, but today I definitely will. When I see my name, I stop in the middle of the step. I don’t see Four anywhere and my opponent is Peter.  
 I laugh, loudly, “Eric? Go get Max!” I smile.  
 “Why? Max doesn’t need to be here.” He looks confused.  
 “If Peter doesn’t want to die today, you’ll go get Max!” I hear snickers.  
 “Ha! You think you’ll be able to beat me?” Peter asks.  
 “Peter, I nearly killed Max when I was ten with two hits. What makes you think I won’t take you down easily? I’d rather fight Eric than you because he’d last a little longer than a minute!” I grin while my friends break into laughter.  
 I look for a camera and wave, when it’s facing me I signal to my ear, telling them to turn up the volume. The person behind the camera makes it move up and then down to give me the go ahead, “Tell Max that he needs to be in the training room as fast as he can. If he doesn’t, he’s going to have one dead initiate!” More up and down movement as confirmation.  
 “I am not stepping foot into that ring unless Max is here. It’s either that, or he’s dead,” I shrug. “I really don’t care about Peter but I don’t want an accidental death on my conscience  no matter how much I might enjoy it. If an initiate dies just because you were being ignorant, Eric, you’re screwed! Now, get the rest of the fights started while I wait for Max.”

 Max strolls in during the fight between Edward and Molly.  
 “Uncle Max!” I smile and pull him to a corner of the room away from everyone else. “You know that if I take a blow to the head, there’s a good chance I’ll start remembering so I have to make sure I take it and you need to make sure to stop the fight there.” He nods seriously and moves to speak to Eric.  
 Molly finally peels herself off the ground and Drew helps her off the mat.  
 I step into the middle of the ring and look to Max, “Go easy on him, toy around a bit if you’d like.” I nod.  
 I roll my shoulders and wait. Peter smiles at me. He sets himself up for a fight and just watches me.  
 “What? No defence?” I shrug.  
 He lunges at me, aiming for my face. I duck to the left and under his arm. I grab the front of his t-shirt and head butt him. He stumbles back and I just wait.  
 “You call that fighting, Peter?” I ask. “Come on, you can’t get a hit in with the small, weak, vulnerable girl from Abnegation? Pathetic!”  
 He comes at me again and he’s fast, but not fast enough. He steps back, unsure in his movements. I shake myself off and prepare to attack. I feint a punch for his face and when he falls for it, I get him with two rapid jabs to the stomach. I pull back, stand up straight and tilt my head to the side.  
“You had enough?” I ask.  
He can’t catch his breath so I look to Max, “Finish it!”  
I balance on my right leg, lift my left, hop forward onto my left leg while my right travels up, over and down onto the back of his head. Knocked out!  
I turn him over and check his pulse. His breathing’s still a little too fast and laboured, “Give me a hand here, Eric? He’s gonna have a killer headache when he wakes up.”

When we’re through the doors of the training room, Eric asks, “Where did you learn all that?”  
“I really have no idea! It just comes naturally but when it comes to fighting, Max has been the only one that’s ever been able to calm me down enough to stop which is why I looked to him when Peter was still conscious. I have half memories of my childhood but I don’t remember enough. I even forgot my mom’s sister, Raven!” I bite my bottom lip when I look up at him. “Do you know what it’s like? Being in a place that feels so much like home and yet, you don’t have memories of ever being there? If Max hadn’t spoke about my mother at dinner on the first day, I probably wouldn’t have remembered him.”  
 We’re standing outside the infirmary now, it’s not too far from the training room because everyone knows that initiates always end up with more injuries.  
 “I may be slightly out of practise but I don’t need the physical training, I really don’t. Guns, knives, yeah I need to train with those but fighting, I don’t. I just need some conditioning which is why I don’t want to take part in the fights. I mean, yeah, I’ll take on Edward next because he’s in the top spot but after that? No thanks!”  
 We get through the doors, drop Peter onto a bed and take our leave.  
 On the way back, we’re matching step for step, shoulders bumping every now and then.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much the same as it is in the book.  
> There are minor changes and I swapped out some of the stuff for what happens in the movie.  
> Next chapter will be sorta the same!
> 
> I do NOT own the Divergent Series.  
> I'm just messing with it!

Three days after my fight with Peter, I’m just about to go to bed when the doors are forced open and people with flashlight descend upon us.  
 “Everybody up!” someone roars. A flashlight shines behind his head, making the rings in his ears glint. Eric. Surrounding him are other Dauntless, some of whom I have seen in the Pit, some of whom I have never seen before. Four stands among them.  
 His eyes shift to mine and stay there. I stare back and forget that all around me the transfers are getting out of bed.  
“Did you go deaf, Stiff?” demands Eric.  
“No you idiot! Turn on the lights and let us get dressed,” I snap back. I usually sleep fully clothed, so it doesn’t matter to me, but Christina stands next to our bunk wearing only a t-shirt, her long legs bare. She folds her arms and stares at Eric.  
 “You have five minutes to get dressed and meet us by the tracks,” says Eric. “We’re going on another field trip.”  
 I shove my feet into shoes and sprint, wincing, behind Christina on the way to the train. A drop of sweat rolls down the back of my neck as we run up the paths along the walls of the Pit, pushing past members on our way up. They don’t seem surprised to see us. I wonder how many frantic, running people they see on a weekly basis.  
 We make it to the tracks just behind the Dauntless-born initiates. Next to the tracks is a black pile. I make out a cluster of long gun barrels and trigger guards.  
 “Are we going to shoot something?” Christina hisses in my ear. Next to the pile are boxes of what looks like ammunition. I inch closer to read one of the boxes. Written on it is “PAINTBALLS.” I’ve never heard of them before, but the name is self-explanatory. I laugh.  
 “Everyone grab a gun!” shouts Eric.  
 We rush toward the pile. I am the closest to it, so I snatch the first gun I can find, which is heavy, but not too heavy for me to lift, and grab a box of paintballs. I shove the box in my pocket and sling the gun across my back so the strap crosses my chest.  
 “Time estimate?” Eric asks Four.  
 Four checks his watch. “Any minute now. How long is it going to take you to memorize the train schedule?”  
 “Why should I, when I have you to remind me of it?” says Eric, shoving Four’s shoulder.  
A circle of light appears on my left, far away. It grows larger as it comes closer, shining against the side of Four’s face, creating a shadow in the faint hollow beneath his cheekbone.  
He is the first to get on the train, and I run after him, not waiting for Christina or Will or Al to follow me. Four turns around as I fall into stride next to the car and holds out a hand.  
  I grab his arm, and he pulls me in. Even the muscles in his forearm are taut, defined.  
 I let go quickly, without looking at him, and sit down on the other side of the car.

Once everyone is in, Four speaks up.  
“We’ll be dividing into two teams to play capture the flag. Each team will have an even mix of members, Dauntless-born initiates, and transfers. One team will get off first and find a place to hide their flag. Then the second team will get off and do the same.” The car sways, and Four grabs the side of the doorway for balance. “This is a Dauntless tradition, so I suggest you take it seriously.”  “What do we get if we win?” someone shouts.  
 “Sounds like the kind of question someone not from Dauntless would ask,” says Four, raising an eyebrow. “You get to win, of course.”  
 “Four and I will be your team captains,” says Eric. He looks at Four. “Let’s divide up transfers first, shall we?” I tilt my head back.  
 “You go first,” Four says.  
 Eric shrugs. “Edward.”  
 Four leans against the door frame and nods. The moonlight makes his eyes bright. He scans the group of transfer initiates briefly, without calculation, and says, “I want the Stiff.”  
 “The next guy to call me ‘Stiff’ is gonna find themselves missing crucial parts!”  
 “Your turn,” says Four.  
 “Peter.”  
 “Christina.” That throws a wrench in his strategy. Christina is not one of the weak ones. What exactly is he doing?  
 “Molly.”  
 “Will,” says Four, biting his thumbnail.  
 “Al.”  
 “Drew.”  
 “Last one left is Myra. So she’s with me,” says Eric. “Dauntless-born initiates next.” I stop listening once they’re finished with us.

They finish choosing teams, and Eric smirks at Four.  
 “Your team can get off second,” says Eric.  
 “Don’t do me any favours,” Four replies. He smiles a little. “You know I don’t need them to win.”  
 “No, I know that you’ll lose no matter when you get off,” says Eric, biting down briefly on his lip.  “Take your scrawny team and get off first, then.”  
 We all stand up. Al gives me a forlorn look, and I smile back in what I hope is a reassuring way. If any of the four of us had to end up on the same team as Eric, Peter, and Molly, at least it was him. They usually leave him alone.  
 The train is about to dip to the ground. I am determined to land on my feet.  
 Just before I jump, someone shoves my shoulder, and I almost topple out of the train car. I don’t look back to see who it is—Molly, Drew, or Peter, it doesn’t matter which one. Before they can try it again, I jump. This time I am ready for the momentum the train gives me, and I run a few steps to diffuse it but keep my balance. Fierce pleasure courses through me and I smile. It’s a small accomplishment, but it makes me feel Dauntless.  
 One of the Dauntless-born initiates touches Four’s shoulder and asks, “When your team won, where did you put the flag?”  
 “Telling you wouldn’t really be in the spirit of the exercise, Marlene,” he says coolly.  
 “Come on, Four,” she whines. She gives him a flirtatious smile. He brushes her hand off his arm, and for some reason, I find myself grinning.

“Navy Pier,” another Dauntless-born initiate calls out. He is tall, with brown skin and dark eyes. Handsome. “My brother was on the winning team. They kept the flag at the carousel.”  
 “Let’s go there, then,” suggests Will.  
 No one objects, so we walk east, toward the marsh that was once a lake. When I was young, I tried to imagine what it would look like as a lake, with no fence built into the mud to keep the city safe. But it is difficult to imagine that much water in one place.  
 “We’re close to Erudite headquarters, right?” asks Christina, bumping Will’s shoulder with her own.  “Yeah. It’s south of here,” he says. He looks over his shoulder, and for a second his expression is full of longing. Then it’s gone.  
  I am less than a mile away from my brother. It has been a week since we were that close together. I shake my head a little to get the thought out of my mind. I can’t think about him today, when I have to focus on making it through stage one. I can’t think about him any day.  
 We walk across the bridge. We still need the bridges because the mud beneath them is too wet to walk on. I wonder how long it’s been since the river dried up.  
 Once we cross the bridge, the city changes. Behind us, most of the buildings were in use, and even if they weren’t, they looked well-tended. In front of us is a sea of crumbling concrete and broken glass.  The silence of this part of the city is eerie; it feels like a nightmare but it makes my blood thrum with excitement. It’s hard to see where I’m going, because it’s after midnight and all the city lights are off.

Marlene takes out a flashlight and shines it at the street in front of us.  
“Scared of the dark, Mar?” the dark-eyed Dauntless-born initiate teases.  
 “If you want to step on broken glass, Uriah, be my guest,” she snaps. But she turns it off anyway.  
 I have realized that part of being Dauntless is being willing to make things more difficult for yourself in order to be self-sufficient. There’s nothing especially brave about wandering dark streets with no flashlight, but we are not supposed to need help, even from light. We are supposed to be capable of anything.  
 I like that. Because there will come a day when there is no flashlight, there is no gun, there is no guiding hand. And I will be ready for it.  
The buildings end just before the marsh. A strip of land juts out into the marsh, and rising from it is a giant white wheel with dozens of red passenger cars dangling from it at regular intervals. The Ferris wheel.  
“Think about it. People used to ride that thing. For fun,” says Will, shaking his head.  
“They must have been Dauntless,” I say.  
“Yeah, but a lame version of Dauntless.” Christina laughs. “A Dauntless Ferris wheel wouldn’t have cars. You would just hang on tight with your hands, and good luck to you.”

We walk down the side of the pier. All the buildings on my left are empty, their signs torn down and their windows closed, but it is a clean kind of emptiness. Whoever left these places left them by choice and at their leisure. Some places in the city are not like that.  
“Dare you to jump into the marsh,” says Christina to Will.  
“You first.”  
 We reach the carousel. Some of the horses are scratched and weathered, their tails broken off or their saddles chipped. Four takes the flag out of his pocket.  
“In ten minutes, the other team will pick their location,” he says. “I suggest you take this time to formulate a strategy. We may not be Erudite, but mental preparedness is one aspect of your Dauntless training. Arguably, it is the most important aspect.”  
He is right about that. What good is a prepared body if you have a scattered mind?  
Will takes the flag from Four.  
“Some people should stay here and guard, and some people should go out and scout the other team’s location,” Will says.  
“Yeah? You think?” Marlene plucks the flag from Will’s fingers. “Who put you in charge, transfer?” “No one,” says Will. “But someone’s got to do it.”  
“Maybe we should develop a more defensive strategy. Wait for them to come to us, then take them out,” suggests Christina.  
“That’s the sissy way out,” Uriah says. “I vote we go all out. Hide the flag well enough that they can’t find it.”  
Everyone bursts into the conversation at once, their voices louder with each passing second. Christina defends Will’s plan; the Dauntless-born initiates vote for offense; everyone argues about who should make the decision. Four sits down on the edge of the carousel, leaning against a plastic horse’s foot. His eyes lift to the sky, where there are no stars, only a round moon peeking through a thin layer of clouds.

I close my eyes briefly. I need to focus.  
“Hey!” I shout. “What we need to do is get a high vantage point, try to locate them and then we prepare a plan of action. So yeah, I’m going to go climb the Ferris wheel, anyone care to join?”  
I walk away from them with semi-confident steps. The ground isn’t exactly stable.  
 When I stare up at the Ferris wheel from the ground, my throat feels tighter. It is taller than I thought, so tall I can barely see the cars swinging at the top. The only good thing about its height is that it is built to support weight. If I climb it, it won’t collapse beneath me.  
 My heart pumps faster. Will I really risk my life for this—to win a game the Dauntless like to play? It’s so dark I can barely see them, but when I stare at the huge, rusted supports holding the wheel in place, I see the rungs of a ladder. Each support is only as wide as my shoulders, and there are no railings to hold me in, but climbing a ladder is better than climbing the spokes of the wheel.  
I grab a rung. It’s rusty and thin and feels like it might crumble in my hands. I put my weight on the lowest rung to test it and jump to make sure it will hold me up.  
 “Tris,” a low voice says behind me. I don’t know why it doesn’t startle me. Maybe because I am becoming Dauntless, and mental readiness is something I am supposed to develop. Maybe because his voice is low and smooth and almost soothing. Whatever the reason, I look over my shoulder. Four stands behind me with his gun slung across his back, just like mine.  
I see his smile in the dark. “All right. I’m coming.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say.  
“Undoubtedly,” he replies. I don’t hear the sarcasm, but I know it’s there. It has to be. I climb, and when I’m a few feet off the ground, he comes after me. He moves faster than I do, and soon his hands find the rungs that my feet leave.  
“So tell me…,” he says quietly as we climb. He sounds breathless. “What do you think the purpose of this exercise is? The game, I mean, not the climbing.”  
I stare down at the pavement. It seems far away now, but I’m not even a third of the way up. Above me is a platform, just below the centre of the wheel. That’s my destination. I don’t even think about how I will climb back down. The breeze that brushed my cheeks earlier now presses against my side. The higher we go, the stronger it will get. I need to be ready.  
“Learning about strategy,” I say. “Teamwork, maybe.”  
“Teamwork,” he repeats. A laugh hitches in his throat. It sounds like a panicked breath.  
“Maybe not,” I say. “Teamwork doesn’t seem to be a Dauntless priority.”  
The wind is stronger now. I press closer to the white support so I don’t fall, but that makes it hard to climb. Below me the carousel looks small. I can barely see my team under the awning.  
 Four says, “It’s supposed to be a priority. It used to be.”  
But I’m not really listening, because the height is dizzying. My hands ache from holding the rungs, and my legs are shaking, but I’m not sure why. The height makes me feel alive with energy, every organ and vessel and muscle in my body singing at the same pitch.

 We get to a small platform and I gaze over the city. I don’t see much or the colours of Eric’s flag because there’s a huge building in my way.  
“Stay here, I need to go higher! I’ll be back in a minute.” I begin climbing again.  
 This is crazy, and I know it. A fraction of an inch of mistake, half a second of hesitation, and my life is over. Heat tears through my chest, and I smile as I grab the next bar. I pull myself up, my arms shaking, and force my leg under me so I’m standing on another bar. When I feel steady, I look down at Four but I see straight to the ground.  
 I can’t breathe.  
 I imagine my body plummeting, smacking into the bars as it falls down, and my limbs at broken angles on the pavement, just like Rita’s sister when she didn’t make it onto the roof.  
I grab another bar, find another place to wedge my foot. When I look at the city again, the building isn’t in my way. I’m high enough to see the skyline. Most of the buildings are black against a navy sky, but the red lights at the top of the Hub are lit up. They blink half as fast as my heartbeat. Beneath the buildings, the streets look like tunnels.  
 For a few seconds I see only a dark blanket over the land in front of me, just faint differences between building and sky and street and ground. Then I see the yellow glow at the top of the tallest building in this part of the city.

 When we’re on the ground again, we start toward the carousel where our team members guard our flag.  
 Christina is perched on one of the horses, her long legs crossed and her hand around the pole holding the plastic animal upright. Our flag is behind her, a glowing triangle in the dark. Three Dauntless-born initiates stand among the other worn and dirty animals. One of them has his hand on a horse’s head, and a scratched horse eye stares at me between his fingers. Sitting on the edge of the carousel is an older Dauntless, scratching her quadruple-pierced eyebrow with her thumb.  
 “We know where they are.”  
 “We?” says Christina, looking from Four to me. “Yes, Tris told you all she was climbing the Ferris Wheel and you all ignored her!” he says.  
 “What do we do now, then?” asks one of the Dauntless-born initiates through a yawn.  
Four looks at me. Slowly the eyes of the other initiates, including Christina, migrate from him to me.  
I tense my shoulders, about to shrug and say I don’t know, and then an image of the pier stretching out beneath me comes into my mind. I have an idea.  
 “We’re on the move now so get your gear. Split in half,” I say. “The other team is in that big building with the tower, so Zeke’s group will charge and draw their fire as Four’s group sneaks behind the other team to get the flag.”

Christina looks at me like she no longer recognizes me. I don’t blame her.  
“Sounds good,” says the older girl, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get this night over with, shall we?”  
Christina joins me in the group going to the right, along with Uriah, whose smile looks white against his skin’s bronze. I didn’t notice before, but he has a tattoo of a snake behind his ear. I stare at its tail curling around his earlobe for a moment, but then Four starts running, leading us up a staircase and I have to follow him.  
I have to run twice as fast to match my short strides to his long ones. Though I can hardly breathe as it is, I run faster, and I’m on Four’s heels. I pull my gun around my body, holding my finger over the trigger.  
We reach the end of the building, and I clamp my mouth shut to keep my loud breaths in. We slow down so our footsteps aren’t as loud and every so often, two of our group break off. I look for the yellow glow again. Now that I’m on the ground and closer, it’s bigger and easier to see. I point, and Four nods, crouching and leading the way forward.  
Then I hear a chorus of yells, so loud they make me jump.

“Light ‘em up,” Eric shouts. I see a red glow, the other half of my team. I hear puffs of air as paintballs go flying and splats as they find their targets. Our team has charged, the other team runs to meet us, and the flag is almost unguarded.  
“Go get their flag!” Four says to me.  
“Christina, with me!”  
 Four and Uriah disappear around a corner and cover us.  
We hear some shots being taken ahead of us a duck in different directions. I can’t see or hear Christina. So I sneak around the container I’m hiding behind and I see Peter with his gun aimed at her.  
 “Tell me if this hurts,” he says.  
 “You tell me!” He turns to me and I shoot him in the chest.  
 “Ah! Bitch!”  
As Christina walks past, “Asshole!” she shoots him in the private area.  
 We pick up our speed and make it to the tower. Halfway up the stairs, Christina tells me she’s going to guard, just in case.  
 I get to the top and throw the hatch open to see Molly, we start shooting at each other. After a while of that, we both run out of paintballs. She comes at me, trying to use her gun as a weapon and so I balance myself on the edges of the hatch and volley her stomach.  
 She comes at me again and swipes with the gun. I duck and give a swift jab to the face. Making sure she isn’t going to fall down the hatch, I grab the flag and run to the balcony.  
 Hoisting it into the air, I let out a whoop of triumph. After a minute, Christina joins me and we both shout and laugh, then our team joins us. When we get back to our team, we receive claps on the back.  


 We’re back on the train when Al groans. “Why did I have to be on the other team?”  
 “Because life’s not fair, Albert. And the world is conspiring against you,” says Will. “Hey, can I see the flag again?”  
 Peter, Molly, and Drew sit across from the members in the corner. Their chests and backs are splattered with blue and pink paint, and they look dejected. They speak quietly, sneaking looks at the rest of us, especially Christina and Will. That is the benefit of not holding the flag right now—I am no one’s target.  
 “So you climbed the Ferris wheel, huh,” says Uriah. He stumbles across the car and sits next to me. Marlene, the girl with the flirty smile, follows him.  
 “Yes. I told you I was going to,” I say.  
 “Pretty smart of you. Like…Erudite smart,” Marlene says. “I’m Marlene.”  
 “Tris,” I say. At home, being compared to an Erudite would be an insult, but she says it like a compliment.  
 “Yeah, I know who you are,” she says. “The first jumper tends to stick in your head. Not taking the fact that you basically stripped and called the other initiates pansy cakes into account.”  
 “What can I say? I’m Dauntless!”  
 It has been years since I jumped off a building in my Abnegation uniform; it has been decades. Uriah takes one of the paintballs from his gun and squeezes it between his thumb and index finger. The train lurches to the left, and Uriah falls against me, his fingers pinching the paintball until a stream of pink, foul-smelling paint sprays on my face.  
 Marlene collapses in giggles. I wipe some of the paint from my face, slowly, and then smear it on his cheek. The scent of fish oil wafts through the train car.  
 “Ew!” He squeezes the ball at me again, but the opening is at the wrong angle, and the paint sprays into his mouth instead. He coughs and makes exaggerated gagging sounds.  
 I wipe my face with my sleeve, laughing so hard my stomach hurts.  
 If my entire life is like this, loud laughter and bold action and the kind of exhaustion you feel after a hard but satisfying day, I will be content. As Uriah scrapes his tongue with his fingertips, I realize that all I have to do is get through initiation, and that life will be mine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun times!
> 
> I do NOT own the Divergent Series.
> 
> Enjoy!

The next morning, when I trudge into the training room, yawning, a large target stands at one end of the room, and next to the door is a table with knives strewn across it. Target practice again. At least it won’t hurt.   
 Eric stands in the middle of the room, his posture so rigid it looks like someone replaced his spine with a metal rod. The sight of him makes me feel like all the air in the room is heavier, bearing down on me. At least when he was slouched against a wall, I could pretend he wasn’t here. Today I can’t pretend.   
 “Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one,” Eric says. “You will resume fighting then. Today, you’ll be learning how to aim. Everyone pick up three knives.” His voice is deeper than usual. “And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them.”   
 At first no one moves.   
 “Now!”  
 We scramble for daggers. They aren’t as heavy as guns, but they still feel strange in my hands.   
“He’s in a bad mood today,” mumbles Christina.   
“Is he ever in a good mood?” I murmur back.   
 But I know what she means. Judging by the poisonous look Eric gives Four when he isn’t paying attention, last night’s loss must have bothered Eric more than he let on. Winning capture the flag is a matter of pride, and pride is important to the Dauntless. More important than reason or sense.   
I watch Four’s arm as he throws a knife. The next time he throws, I watch his stance. He hits the target each time, exhaling as he releases the knife.  
 Eric orders, “Line up!”   
  _Haste_ , I think, _will not help_. My mother told me that when I was learning how to knit. I have to think of this as a mental exercise, not a physical exercise. So I spend the first few minutes practicing without a knife, finding the right stance, learning the right arm motion.   
Eric paces too quickly behind us.   
 “Hey, Stiff! Remember what a knife is?” Ignoring Peter, I practice the throw again with a knife in hand but don’t release it. I shut out Eric’s pacing, and Peter’s jeering, and the nagging feeling that Four is staring at me, and throw the knife. It spins end over end, slamming into the board. The blade doesn’t stick, but I’m the first person to hit the target.  
 I smirk as Peter misses again. I can’t help myself.   
 “Hey, Peter,” I say. “Remember what a target is?”   
 Next to me, Christina snorts, and her next knife hits the target.   
 A half hour later, Al is the only initiate who hasn’t hit the target yet. His knives clatter to the floor, or bounce off the wall. While the rest of us approach the board to collect our weapons, he hunts the floor for his.   
 The next time he tries and misses, Eric marches toward him and demands, “How slow are you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer to you?”   
 Al’s face turns red. He throws another knife, and this one sails a few feet to the right of the target. It spins and hits the wall.   
 “What was that, initiate?” says Eric quietly, leaning closer to Al.   
I bite my lip. This isn’t good.   
“It—it slipped,” says Al.   
 “Well, I think you should go get it,” Eric says. He scans the other initiates’ faces—everyone has stopped throwing again—and says, “Did I tell you to stop?”   
 Knives start to hit the board. We have all seen Eric angry before, but this is different. The look in his eyes is almost rabid.   
 “Go get it?” Al’s eyes are wide. “But everyone’s still throwing.”   
“And?”   
 “And I don’t want to get hit.”   
“I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you.” Eric smiles a little, but his eyes stay cruel. “Go get your knife.”   
 Al doesn’t usually object to anything the Dauntless tell us to do. I don’t think he’s afraid to; he just knows that objecting is useless. This time Al sets his wide jaw. He’s reached the limits of his compliance.   
 “No,” he says.   
“Why not?” Eric’s beady eyes fix on Al’s face. “Are you afraid?”   
 “Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife?” says Al. “Yes, I am!”   
Honesty is his mistake. Not his refusal, which Eric might have accepted.   
 “Everyone stop!” Eric shouts.   
The knives stop, and so does all conversation. I hold my small dagger tightly.   
“Clear out of the ring.” Eric looks at Al. “All except you.”   
 I drop the dagger and it hits the dusty floor with a thud. I follow the other initiates to the edge of the room, and they inch in front of me, eager to see what makes my stomach turn: Al, facing Eric’s wrath.   
 “Stand in front of the target,” says Eric. Al’s big hands shake. He walks back to the target. “Hey, Four,” Eric looks over his shoulder. “Give me a hand here, huh?”   
 Four scratches one of his eyebrows with a knife point and approaches Eric. He has dark circles under his eyes and a tense set to his mouth—he’s as tired as we are.   
 “You’re going to stand there as he throws those knives,” Eric says to Al, “until you learn not to flinch.”  
 “Is this really necessary?” says Four. He sounds bored, but he doesn’t look bored. His face and body are tense, alert.   
 I squeeze my hands into fists. No matter how casual Four sounds, the question is a challenge. And Four doesn’t often challenge Eric directly.

 At first Eric stares at Four in silence. Four stares back. Seconds pass and my fingernails bite my palms. “I have the authority here, remember?” Eric says, so quietly I can barely hear him. “Here, and everywhere else.”   
 Colour rushes into Four’s face, though his expression does not change. His grip on the knives tightens and his knuckles turn white as he turns to face Al.   
 I look from Al’s wide, dark eyes to his shaking hands to the determined set of Four’s jaw. Anger bubbles in my chest, and bursts from my mouth: “Stop it.”   
 Four turns the knife in his hand, his fingers moving painstakingly over the metal edge. He gives me such a hard look that I feel like he’s turning me to stone. I know why. I am stupid for speaking up while Eric is here; I am stupid for speaking up at all.   
 “Any idiot can stand in front of a target,” I say. “It doesn’t prove anything except that you’re bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice.”   
 “Then it should be easy for you,” Eric says. “If you’re willing to take his place.” The last thing I want to do is stand in front of that target, but I can’t back down now. I didn’t leave myself the option. I weave through the crowd of initiates, and someone shoves my shoulder.   
“There goes your pretty face,” hisses Peter. “Oh, wait. You don’t have one.”   
I recover my balance and walk toward Al. He nods at me. I smile encouragingly. I stand in front of the board, and my head doesn’t even reach the centre of the target, but it doesn’t matter. I look at Four’s knives: one in his right hand, two in his left hand.  
I tip my chin up defiantly. I will not flinch. If I flinch, I prove to Eric that this is not as easy as I said it was; I prove that I’m a coward. “If you flinch,” Four says, slowly, carefully, “Al takes your place. Understand?” I nod.  
I look from Four’s hands, straight into Eric’s eyes. His are cold, calculating and quite pretty. What? Pretty eyes are attractive!

 I hear the first knife hit the board and when I look, it’s about a foot and a half away from my cheek. I let out a yawn. I stare at Eric again and another hits the board above my head. I don’t even bother with the last one, I’m bored now.  
 That’s about the time I feel the stinging in my ear. I slowly pull my head away from the knife and bring my hand up to my ear.  
 I grin when I feel the blood.  
 “I would love to stay and see if the rest of you are as daring as she is,” says Eric, his voice smooth, “but I think that’s enough for today.”   
 He squeezes my shoulder and stares at me for a minute.  
“I should keep my eye on you,” he adds.  
“Yeah Sweets, you do that. I’ll be keeping mine on you too!” I cock my head to the side and give him an innocent smile.

 We get back to the dormitory to see the rankings have been shifted. I’m in tenth place below Christina. Edward is one place above Peter, Will is one place below.  
 That night, I’m lying in bed thinking about my ranking. I haven’t fought anyone other than Peter because I refuse to.   
 I hear a scuffle across the room and lift my head from the pillow. My eyes aren’t adjusted to the dark, so I stare into pure black, like the backs of my eyelids. I hear shuffling and the squeak of a shoe.  
 A heavy thud.   
 And then a wail that curdles my blood and makes my hair stand on end. I throw the blankets back and stand on the stone floor with bare feet. I still can’t see well enough to find the source of the scream, but I see a dark lump on the floor a few bunks down.   
 Another scream pierces my ears. “Turn on the lights!” someone shouts.   
I walk toward the sound, slowly so I don’t trip over anything. I feel like I’m in a trance. I don’t want to see where the screaming is coming from. A scream like that can only mean blood and bone and pain; that scream that comes from the pit of the stomach and extends to every inch of the body.   
 The lights come on.  
 Edward lies on the floor next to his bed, clutching at his face. Surrounding his head is a halo of blood, and jutting between his clawing fingers is a silver knife handle. My heart thumping in my ears, I recognize it as a butter knife from the dining hall. The blade is stuck in Edward’s eye.  
 Myra, who stands at Edward’s feet, screams. Someone else screams too, and someone yells for help, and Edward is still on the floor, writhing and wailing. I crouch by his head, my knees pressing to the pool of blood, and put my hands on his shoulders.   
 “Lie still,” I say. I feel calm, though I can’t hear anything, like my head is submerged in water. Edward thrashes again and I say it louder, sterner. “I said, lie still. Breathe.”   
 “My eye!” he screams. I smell something foul. Someone vomited.   
“Take it out!” he yells. “Get it out, get it out of me, get it out!”   
 I shake my head and then realize that he can’t see me. A laugh bubbles in my stomach. Hysterical. I have to suppress hysteria if I’m going to help him. I have to forget myself.   
 “No,” I say. “You have to let the doctor take it out. Hear me? Let the doctor take it out. And breathe.”  
 “It hurts,” he sobs.   
“I know it does.” Instead of my voice I hear my mother’s voice. I see her crouching before me on the sidewalk in front of our house, brushing tears from my face after I scraped my knee. I was five at the time.   
 “It will be all right.” I try to sound firm, like I’m not idly reassuring him, but I am. I don’t know if it will be all right. I suspect that it won’t. When the nurse arrives, she tells me to step back, and I do. My hands and knees are soaked with blood. When I look around, I see that only two faces are missing.  
 Drew.   
 And Peter.

 After they take Edward away, I carry a change of clothes into the bathroom and wash my hands. Christina comes with me and stands by the door, but she doesn’t say anything, and I’m glad. There isn’t much to say.  
 I scrub at the lines in my palms and run one fingernail under my other fingernails to get the blood out. I change into the pants I brought and throw the soiled ones in the trash. I get as many paper towels as I can hold. Someone needs to clean up the mess in the dormitory, and since I doubt I’ll ever be able to sleep again, it might as well be me.   
 As I reach for the door handle, Christina says, “You know who did that, right?”   
 “Yeah.”   
 “Should we tell someone?”   
 “You really think the Dauntless will do anything?” I say. “After they hung you over the chasm? After they made us beat each other unconscious?” She doesn’t say anything.   
 For a half hour after that, I kneel alone on the floor in the dormitory and scrub at Edward’s blood. Christina throws away the dirty paper towels and gets me new ones. Myra is gone; she probably followed Edward to the hospital.   
 No one sleeps much that night.

 Today is the day before Visiting Day. I think of Visiting Day like I think of the world ending: Nothing after it matters. Everything I do build’s up to it. I might see my parents again. I might not. Which is worse? I don’t know.   
 I try to pull a pant leg over my thigh and it sticks just above my knee. Frowning, I stare at my leg. A bulge of muscle is stopping the fabric. I let the pant leg fall and look over my shoulder at the back of my thigh. Another muscle stands out there.   
 I step to the side so I stand in front of the mirror. I see that my muscles are more toned and pronounced than they were at the start of initiation. I pinch my side, where a layer of fat used to hint at curves to come.   
 Nothing.   
 Dauntless initiation has stolen whatever softness my body had. At least the conditioning is working. I wrap my towel around me again and leave the girls’ bathroom. I hope no one is in the dormitory to see me walking in my towel, but I can’t wear those pants.   
 When I open the dormitory door, a weight drops into my stomach. Peter, Molly, Drew, and some of the other initiates stand in the back corner, laughing. They look up when I walk in and start snickering. Molly’s snort-laugh is louder than everyone else’s.   
 I walk to my bunk, trying to pretend like they aren’t there, and fumble in the drawer under my bed for the dress Christina made me get. One hand clamped around the towel and one holding the dress, I stand up, and right behind me is Peter. I try to slip past him, but he slams his hand against Christina’s bed frame, blocking my path. I should have known he wouldn’t let me get away that easily. “Didn’t realize you were so skinny, Stiff.”

“Get away from me.” My voice is steady and has a hint of steel.   
“This isn’t the Hub, you know. No one has to follow a Stiff’s orders here.” His eyes travel down my body, not in the greedy way that a man looks at a woman, but cruelly, scrutinizing every flaw. I hear my heartbeat in my ears as the others inch closer, forming a pack behind Peter.  
 “Look at her,” says Molly, crossing her arms. She smirks at me. “She’s practically a child.”   
 “Oh, I don’t know,” says Drew. “She could be hiding something under that towel. Why don’t we look and see?”  
 “Molly, I’m no elephant but if you want a look at my body, go ahead. But touch it and I’ll break your neck!” I lift my arms and the towel is pulled away quickly. “Happy? Now, get out of my way or I’ll have you executed for sexual harassment!”  
 They’re gobsmacked. Jaws on the floor because I just don’t care.   
 “Oh, and I’d be careful if I were you.” I smirk, “I know a couple of Dauntless that would kill for me and get away with it!” I stride past them, with my dress in hand and my head held high.  
 I pull the dress over my head before I reach the door barely slowing my stride. I want to hurt them!

I can’t fight in a dress, so I get myself some new clothes from the Pit before I walk to the training room for my last fight. I hope it’s with Peter.   
 “Hey, where were you this morning?” Christina asks when I walk in. I squint to see the blackboard across the room. The space next to my name is blank—I haven’t gotten an opponent yet.   
 “I got held up,” I say. Four stands in front of the board and writes a name next to mine. Please let it be Peter, please, please….  
  “You okay, Tris? You look a little…,” says Al.   
 “A little what?” Four moves away from the board. The name written next to mine is Molly. Not Peter, but good enough.   
 “On edge,” says Al.

My fight is last on the list, which means I have to wait through two matches before I face her. Peter fights second to last – good. Christina will fight Al, which means that Al will lose quickly, like he’s been doing all week.  
“Go easy on me, okay?” Al asks Christina.  
“I make no promises,” she replies.

Across the room, Four leans against the wall and yawns.  
 I stare at the board and try to predict the outcome of each match. It doesn’t take long. Then I bite my fingernails and think about Molly. Christina lost to her, which means she’s good. She had a powerful punch, but she doesn’t move her feet. If she can’t hit me, she can’t hurt me.  
 As expected, the fight between Christina and Al is quick and painless. Al falls after a few hard hits to the face and doesn’t get back up, which makes Eric shake his head.  
 Peter and a Dauntless-born initiate take longer. They’re equally matched until Peter gathers his wits and strikes fast.  


 By the time the other matches are done, my nails are bitten to the beds and I’m hungry for lunch. I walk to the arena without looking at anyone or anything but the centre of the room. Some of my anger has faded, but it isn’t hard to call back. All I have to do is think about how cold the air was and how annoying their voices were when teasing me.   
  _Look at her._  
 She’s a child.   
“Was that a birthmark I saw on your left butt cheek?” she says, smirking. “God, you’re pale, Stiff.”  
“Yeah, I think it was. You know what the Abnegation are like though, they don’t like showing skin. But we’re Dauntless now and we’re basically underground. You’re paler than me, mammoth!”  
 She’ll make the first move. She always does.   
 Molly starts toward me and throws her weight into a punch. As her body shifts forward, I duck and drive my fist into her stomach, right over her bellybutton. Before she can get her hands on me, I slip past her, my hands up, ready for her next attempt.  
“I’m not playing around this time, Molly! The next time you and your two sasquatches corner someone in the dormitory when she’s in a towel, make sure she’s not me! Now put up a block so I can go to town.” My voice is hard, the rage seeping in.  
 I block her next punch with my forearm. It doesn’t even sting. She doesn’t get the chance to do anything before I’m repeatedly punching her face. The rage takes over.  
 She tries a sloppy kick at my side, which I dodge and while she’s off balance, I rush forward and force my elbow up at her face.  
 She punches me in the temple and I stumble to the side, recovering my breath. There’s something she’s not protecting, I know it. I want to hit her face, but that’s not a smart move. I watch her for a few seconds. Her hands are too high; they guard her nose and cheeks, leaving her stomach and ribs exposed.  
 I shake the dizziness away as she tries for another. I drop to one knee when she’s almost on top of me and use her over-balance to aid in the uppercut I aim for her stomach, just above the belly button.  
 It forces a breath out of her that I feel by my ear. As she gasps, I sweep-kick her legs and as she falls, I stand.   
 She curls up into a ball while I pull my foot back and kick her again and again.  
 Someone’s hand clamps around my arm and as I turn, I pull my fist back and swing. It connects and another person drops to the floor.  
 Molly groans and I hear gurgling in her throat so I turn back to see blood trickle out of her mouth.

I fall to my knees, my face slack, eyes moving from side to side as the memories play. It’s like a slideshow and then the pain hits me. I grab at my temples, squeeze my eyes shut and lean forward. I can’t breathe and I can’t see anything but memories. My vision tunnels, I feel myself falling forward and then darkness surrounds me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what was going through my head with this chapter.  
> We'll see what happens with the next one, I have a feeling its gonna be looooong!
> 
> I do NOT own the Divergent series!

Visiting Day. I open my eyes to a white ceiling and look around. I’m in a narrow bed with bright white sheets.   
Max is sat at my bedside, slouched in his chair, sleeping.   
I lean over and tap his shoulder, “Uncle Max!”  
He startles and sits up straight, observing his surroundings. His eyes land on me and he pulls a piece of paper from his pocket, “Burn it after you memorise it.”  
  I quickly pull on my boots, speak to a nurse, take some pain killers and make my way to the fire pit.  
Once I’ve finished reading, I tear it up into small pieces, throw it in and make my way to the dorm.  
 Everyone is still asleep, so I quietly make my way to my bunk and change into running gear.  
 When I get back, everyone dresses in silence. We all know that we might go to the Pit floor and search every face and never find one that belongs to us. I find out that I knocked Four out when he tried to stop me from fighting with Molly. Oops!  
 I made my bed with the tight corners like my father taught me. As I pinch a stray hair from my pillow, Eric walks in.   
 “Attention!” he announces, “I want to give you all some advice about today. If by some miracle your families do come to visit you...” He scans our faces and smirks, “...which I doubt, it is best not to seem too attached. That will makes it easier for you, and for them. We also take the phrase ‘faction before blood’ very seriously here. Attachment to your family suggests you aren’t entirely pleased with your faction, which would be shameful. Understand?”  
 I understand. I hear the threat in Eric’s sharp voice. The only part of that speech that Eric meant was the last part: We are Dauntless, and we need to act accordingly.

Clusters of families stand on the Pit floor, most of them, Dauntless families with Dauntless initiates. They still look strange to me – a mother with a pierced eyebrow, a father with a tattooed arm, an initiate with purple hair, a wholesome family unit.   
I spot Drew and Molly standing alone at one end of the room and suppress a smile. At least their families didn’t come.  
But Peter’s did. He stands next to a tall man with bushy eyebrows and a short, meek-looking woman with red hair. Neither of his parents look like him. They both wear black pants and white shirts, typical Candor outfit, and his father speaks so loudly I can almost hear him from where I stand.   
 Do they know what kind of person their son is?  
Then again...what kind of person am I?  
 Across the room, Will stands with a woman in a blue dress. She doesn’t look old enough to be his mother, but she has the same crease between her eyebrows as he does, and the same golden hair.  
 He talked about having a sister once; maybe that’s her.  
 Next to him, Christina hugs a dark-skinned woman in Candor black and white. Standing behind Christina is a young girl, also Candor. Her younger sister.  
  Should I even bother scanning the crowd for my parents? I could turn around and go back to the dorm.  
 Then I see her. My mother stands alone near the railing with her hands clasped in front of her. She has never looked more out of place, with her gray slacks and gray jacket buttoned at the throat, her hair in its simple twist and her face placid.   
 I start toward her, tears jumping into my eyes. She came. She came for me.  
 I walk faster. She sees me, and for a second her expression is blank, like she doesn’t know who I am. Then her eyes light up and she opens her arms. She smells like soap and laundry detergent.  
 “Beatrice,” she whispers. She runs her hand over my hair.  
  _Don’t cry_ , I tell myself. I hold her until I can blink the moisture from my eyes and then pull back to look at her again. I smile with closed lips, just like she does. She touches my cheek.  
 “Well, look at you,” she says. “You’ve filled out much more than last time I saw you.” She puts her arm across my shoulders. “Tell me how you are.”  
“You first.” The old habits are back. I should let her speak first. I shouldn’t let the conversation stay focused on me for too long. I should make sure she doesn’t need anything.  
 “Today is a special occasion,” she says. “I came to see you, so let’s talk mostly about you. It is my gift to you.”

 

 My selfless mother. She should not be giving me gifts, not after I left her and my father, but I know that she knows why I had to.   
 I walk with her toward the railing that overlooks the chasm, glad to be close to her. The last week and a half has been more affectionless than I realised. At home we didn’t touch each other often, and the most I ever saw my parents do was hold hands at the dinner table, but it was more than this, more than here.  
 “Just one question.” I feel my pulse in my throat. “Where’s Dad? Is he visiting Caleb?”  
 “Ah.” She shakes her head. “Your father had to be at work.”  
 I look down. “You can tell me if he didn’t want to come.”  
 Her eyes travel over my face. “Your father has been selfish lately. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, I promise.”  
 I stare at her, stunned. My father – selfish? More startling than the label is the fact that she assigned it to him. I can’t tell by looking at her if she’s angry. I don’t expect to be able to. But she must be; if she calls him _selfish_ , she must be angry.  
 “What about Caleb?” I ask. “Will you visit him later?”  
“I wish I could,” she answers, “but the Erudite have prohibited Abnegation visitors from entering their compound. If I tried, I would be removed from the premises.”  
 “What?” I demand. “That’s terrible. Why would they do that?”  
“Tensions between our factions are higher than ever,” she says. “I wish it wasn’t that way, but there is little we can do about it.”  
 I think of Caleb standing among the Erudite initiates, scanning the crowd for our mother and feel a pang in my stomach. Part of me is still angry with him for keeping so many secrets from me, but I don’t want him to hurt.  
 “That’s terrible,” I repeat. I look toward the chasm.  
Standing alone at the railing is Eric. Though he’s not an initiate anymore, most of the Dauntless use this day to come together with their families.  
 “There’s one of my instructors.” I lean closer to her and say, “You remember Sweets?”  
 “Do I? I remember him running away from a younger you. He sure has grown up.”

I find myself nodding without thinking. She laughs and lifts her arm from my shoulders. I want to steer her away from him, but just as I’m about to suggest that we go elsewhere, he looks over his shoulder. His eyes widen at the sight of my mother and she offers him her hand.

 

 “Eric, I can assume that this is a surprise. Call me Nat.” She smiles easily, “So, how is training going? I know a little about Dauntless initiation and it can be tough.”  
“Training’s better than expected considering Tris here has very little competition.” He looks over our shoulders and turns fully to my mother, “Operation is a go. Might as well bring Tris in considering she’s been trained for it. Reapers, one through six, are online. If you need me, Tris or Max, you’ll get us, one through three.” He seems to think it over for a few seconds, nods to himself and walks away.  
 I look after him, confused and turn to my mother.  
“Please, tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

“That’s not what you think it is.” She looks around to make sure no-one’s close enough to be listening, “There are ten highly skilled Divergents in Dauntless, six of which are online. We know a war is coming and it’s going to start soon. You were the third activated, hence the Reaper Three. Your communications should’ve been surgically inserted into your ear and wrist. If you need anything, and I mean anything, you contact Max or Eric!”

 “Mom!” I can’t wrap my head around anything. “What? How? When? Why? _What_?”

She doesn’t answer and instead, asks to be introduced to the friends I’ve made.

 

 I introduce her to Will and Christina, and Christina introduces me to her mother and sister. But when Will introduces me to Cara, his older sister, she gives me the kind of look that would wither a plant and does not extend her hand for me to shake. She glares at my mother.  
 “I can’t believe that you associate with one of _them_ , Will,” she says.  
My mother purses her lips, but of course, doesn’t say anything.

“Cara,” says Will, frowning, “there’s no need to be _rude_.”

 “Oh, certainly not. Do you know what she is?” She points at my mother. “She’s a council member’s _wife_ is what she is. She runs the ‘volunteer agency’ that supposedly helps the factionless. You think I don’t know that you’re just hoarding goods to distribute to your own faction while _we_ don’t get fresh food for a month, huh? Food for the factionless, my eye.”  


 “Be careful, Cara. I don’t tolerate idiotic people as well as I used to and I certainly don’t deal well with false accusations.” I smirk. “Do you know what happened the last time someone falsely accused someone else of something they had no knowledge of?”

She shakes her head.  
“Tris, there’s no need.” Will attempts to put me at ease.

“Oh, that’s right! I fought the leader of Dauntless, and I kicked his ass! You know, the most experienced fighter there is. So, tell me, how good are those accusations now? ‘Cause I can do this all day long and I will go down swinging!”

 “Back off, Tris,” Will says. “You’re not going to hurt my sister.”

 “Oh?” I say, raising both eyebrows. “If I really wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to stop me, Will! You remember that girl I asked Eric about on the first day of initiation? He told us that she’d lost her memories?” He nods, looking more fearful by the second. “Yeah, well that hit to the head that Molly gave me  worked wonders! So, how do those accusations _really_ sound now?”

 “Tris.” I hear my mother but I don’t answer because I’m staring Will down.

“Mom, you know as well as I do that if you don’t go get Uncle Max now, I’m going to kill someone!” I spare a glance for Cara to see that she’s extremely pale. “Did you think I was kidding, Cara? I was accused on my first day of training of having trained elsewhere and I had no idea what was going on. Now that I do remember, I will kill for my faction and my family!” My fists are clenched at my sides, knuckles bright white.

I hear footsteps behind me and then the air shifts to my left. I duck to the right, keeping eye contact with Will. I take a deep breath and let it out, oh so slowly, unclenching my fists and relaxing.

 “If that’s all, I’d like to go get food! Goodnight!”

 

On my way through the door, Eric stops me.  
 “I may have underestimated you, Stiff,” he says. “You did well yesterday.”  
 I stare up at him and grin, “Now, Sweets, do you remember why Max has to be there when I’m fighting other initiates?” He nods. “Good, because the next time someone that’s under my skill level steps into the ring with me because of you, I’ll have your head on a plate! So, Eric...”  
 I look at the floor for a second then straight back up into his eyes and see that he is surprised, “Next time someone tries to stop me when I go all out, don’t let them unless it’s Max! Technically Molly could’ve continued that fight. I finally let loose and showed that I am Dauntless at heart, and then the fight got stopped. Now that’s not fair at all, is it? If it happens again, I won’t be responsible for my actions!” I brush past him and look over my shoulder after a few steps, “And Eric? My name’s Tris so you better start using it!” I keep facing forward and hold my head high and walk at a steady pace to the cafeteria.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback would be great btw! I don't know how I'm doing.   
> My writing sucks, in my opinion, but my ideas are crazy!
> 
> I do NOT own the Divergent series!

I feel the hairs on my neck stand up as I’m eating but ignore it. Someone, most likely Eric or Max, is watching me. I finish my food, dump my tray, grab a bottle of water and head to the training room. I know I’m being followed but I really don’t care. I let my head fall back and a laugh throws itself from my mouth and then I pick up speed. I’m sprinting, hair billowing out behind me and I feel free. I hear the almost quiet steps behind me when I’m slowing down outside the training room. I push through the doors and pull my hair back, tying it up. I remove my jacket, boots and socks and begin a warm up.  
 When that’s done, I go through the motions Uncle Max taught me and sing to myself, “You say you wanna love me, you say I’m just a fake. You say I’m just another one that never had your back. Do you feel my presence? Maybe I should go, maybe I’m another that you need to let go. See, one day if you let me, I will try and mend this broken past, yeah. My heart will save us ‘cause I’m never giving up on us.  
 “So if you love me, you shouldn’t care if I’ve made mistakes, ‘cause if you need me, you should’ve never pushed me away.  
 “It’s like you’ve been waiting on a different me, you say it could get better but you never see. ‘Cause I see, the beautiful me. So when it comes to it, I’ll always have love for ya, love for ya. When it comes down to it, I’ll always have love for ya, love for ya.  
 “They say that I’m a liar ‘cause I’m from an estate, but what you say behind my back you know I’ll say it to your face. I wish we could let bygones be bygones and so what if I’m wrong, for you I’ll catch another case.   
 “So if you love me, you shouldn’t care if I’ve made mistakes, ‘cause if you need me, you should’ve never pushed me away.  
 “It’s like you’ve been waiting on a different me, you say it could get better but you never see. ‘Cause I see, the beautiful me. So when it comes to it, I’ll always have love for ya, love for ya. When it comes down to it, I’ll always have love for ya, love for ya.  
 “What do you want? You gonna stand there all day or are you gonna stop being a creep and warm up?” I stop my movements and watch as Eric steps out of the shadows. Is that embarrassment? He looks flushed. It’s probably because I caught him. All I can think is ‘please don’t ask why I’m singing. Please!’

 “Why do you sing when you’re moving?” He looks genuinely curious.  
 “Honestly? I don’t know. It calms me, helps me breathe and focus. It really does help breathing, makes them work harder, efficiently strengthening them.” I tilt my head to side a little, brows furrowed. “Do you remember the years I was talking about earlier?” He nods. “Well, Sweets, I know you know me so no more ‘Stiff’ comments. Anyway, sparring session after you’ve warmed up? You’re digging out the wraps though! I’m not gonna be bruised and battered by those bricks you have for hands.” He lets out a startled laugh, removes his jacket and starts his warm up. I’m gonna be too Dauntless in the next half hour just to make him sweat.

I get back into position and begin the motions again, “I wanna be drunk when I wake up, on the right side of the wrong bed and never an excuse I made up. Tell you the truth I hate what didn’t kill me, it never made me stronger, at all. Love will scar your make up. Lip sticks to me, so now I maybe lean back there. I’m sat here, wishing I was sober. I know I’ll never hold you like I, used to.  
 “But a house get cold when you cut the heating, without you to hold, I’ll be freezing. Can’t rely on my heart to beat in, ‘cause you take parts of it, every evening. Take words out of my mouth just from breathing. Replace with phrases like ‘when you leaving me?’  
 “Should I? Should I? Maybe I’ll get drunk again. I’ll be drunk again. I’ll be drunk again, to feel a little love. I wanna hold your heart in both hands, not watch it fizzle at the bottom of a Coke can. And I got no plans for the weekend, so should we speak then? Keep it between friends. Though I know you’ll never love me like you used to.  
 “There may be other people like us, who see the flicker of the clipper when they light up. Flames just create us, but burns don’t heal like before. You don’t hold me anymore.  
 “On cold days, cold plays out like the band’s name. I know I can’t heal things with a handshake. You know I can change, as I began saying, you cut me wide open like landscape. Open bottles of beer but never champagne, to applaud with the sound my hands make.  
 “Should I? Should I? Maybe I’ll get drunk again. I’ll be drunk again. I’ll be drunk again, to feel a little love. All by myself, I’m here again. All by myself, you know I’ll never change. All by myself. All by myself.  
 “I’m just drunk again. I’ll be drunk again. I’ll be drunk again, to feel a little love!” I’ve finished the warm up and the song. I shake myself out and stretch my back out. I look around to find a crowd of Dauntless and Eric, holding two pairs of wraps. “What? You gonna wrap ‘em up or not?”  
 I walk toward him and he snaps out of his daze. “Yeah, yeah, hold your horses, Stiff.” He attempts to wrap my hands up the wrong way.

 “You know, Eric. If you’re feeling nervous or don’t want to continue, you just have to say so.” I stop his attempts at wrapping my hands up and smirk as I wrap them the correct way. He’s being too slow and so I rush to get his done too. “You can always back out.” I shrug, “I mean I’ll get bragging rights but that doesn’t really mean anything if I don’t take you down.” I am so casual about all of this. Sparring with the scariest person I’ve ever met! What is wrong with me?  
 I see the glint in his eye, the one that tells me that he’s accepted the challenge. We’re on either side of the mats and I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet shaking off the tension from the warm up. He’s studying me and he knows I know it. We step onto the mats at the same time and I tilt my head when he gets into position, “Was that a creak I heard? You’re getting old, man! Grease up those joints.” There’re a few snickers while he just smirks. We have a crowd, I hear bets being placed.   
 I lower myself and my hips are almost at the same height as my knees, I lift one arm straight out behind me, the other in front with the palm facing up. I flick my fingers towards me to let him know to start.   
 He comes straight towards me, fast with no strategy at all. As soon as his right leg is in front and he throws a punch, I duck under it, use his leg as leverage, push up using my right leg, swing my left over his shoulder and throw my weight backwards. As soon as my hands hit the floor, I use every muscle I can to throw him over me. When I feel him free falling, I let go and push myself up, turning towards him.   
 He picks himself up, looking slightly impressed and a bit dizzy. Shaking the dizziness off, he gets back into position, motioning for me to start. I step forward with my guard up, protecting everything I can. I duck under a swipe, punch him in the stomach and when he leans forward, use my elbow to swipe his face. I take a couple steps back, “Eric? Are you ok? Do you need the infirmary?” And just like that, I’m on the ground with him straddling my waist, hands on either side of my head.  
 I put my hands on his knees and slide them up his thighs a tiny bit. I pull myself up some and whisper, “I’ll bet you like this position, don’t you?” I smirk, jab him in the throat and when he’s far back enough, wrap my legs around his chest, pull him back and flip us. I have one knee giving slight pressure to his throat, the other on his chest, both hands pinning his arms, “Concede?” He gives a minute shake of the head, so I elbow him in the temple just enough to knock him out for a few minutes.

 When I stand up, I dust myself off and remove the wraps. I look around to see a larger crowd than I originally thought as well as Max. He gives me a small nod and has that amusement look about him. I lean down and remove Eric’s wraps and check him over for injuries. He has a cut on his forehead and a gash on the bridge of his nose. As I stand, I say “Somebody get a first aid kit and patch him up. Get him some pain killers too, ‘cause that’s gonna hurt. I’m gonna go grab a shower and then hide somewhere so he doesn’t kill me when he wakes up!”   
 I walk past my fellow initiates with my head held high, “Damn, you’ve been holding out on us, Stiff!”  
 “Holy shit, Tris!”  
 “And you’re only ranking seventh?”  
 I look over my shoulder again, “Hey, Uncle Max, if he kills me, I’m blaming you!”

 A few hours later, we’re all in the dormitory. Everyone’s asleep and I’m still high on the rush of the sparring match, so I can’t sleep. I get up, grab my boots and my jacket and silently make my way toward the door. Once I get to the end of the corridor, I throw my jacket on and lace up my boots. I make my way to the chasm and on arrival I lean against the railing, bow my head, close my eyes and let the sound of the water drown everything else out.  
 I have no recollection of the time I’ve spent here. I don’t even look up when I feel the vibrations of another person on the bridge nor when I feel the air shift on my left side and then a shoulder bumps against mine. I bump it back and then look up. To my surprise it’s Eric.  
 He’s not looking at me, but I can see the stitches on his nose. I face him and pull his shoulder around so that he’s facing me. I can feel the furrow of my brow and the pursing of my lips. I put a hand on either side of his face, twisting and turning it this way and that. “That’s gonna scar but it won’t be bad. The forehead looks good. There shouldn’t be any permanent damage. Don’t they have a salve or something to speed up the healing? You should’ve used that. Don’t get me wrong, I have my fair share of bruises but we don’t wanna damage your face permanently, and we don’t want anything to happen to your eyes, and I’m rambling so I’m gonna shut up now!” I turn back to the chasm and lean against the fence again.  
 “You know, rankings were supposed to go up today but we’re giving all initiates another day of fighting together to see what happens.” He speaks!  
 “Why?” I’m genuinely confused. They’ve never done that before.  
 “Well, pretty much everyone in the compound knows that you kicked my ass and you were ranked tenth three quarters of the way through stage one. You’re in seventh place at the moment but it’s unfair on you to be ranked lower than you should be, especially because you beat me.”  
 “No! No! No! No! No!” I shake my head so fast. “Do you know how long it’ll take me to make it to ranking first? A whole ten minutes and that’s one after another, facing every initiate, transfers and Dauntless-born. That’s unfair to them.” I slump forward, closing my eyes still shaking my head when I feel more vibrations on the bridge. I know it’s Max, I know his walk. I remember it from my childhood and the training.   
 “I didn’t think you’d ever remember. It was after you got attacked by a crazed factionless man when you were five that your mother begged me to teach you. You were a Hellion back then. Definitely not cut out for Abnegation.” He was chuckling as I was recalling memories. “I see the memories came back? And from what I witnessed earlier, the muscle memory never left!” I nod. “When I seen you with the initiates that first day and you looked at me with not an ounce of recognition, I thought we’d lost you for good. Your mother told me about you falling off a wall or a roof and taking a bad knock to the head. You’d lost all your memories of the training. I guess Dauntless initiation have shaken them loose.”

  He pulls back and made me face him, all amusement gone. “Beatrice,” I sigh. “Initiates have one more day of fights because pretty much every initiate wants a go at you. You can do it and you will show them just how capable and unpredictable you are.”  
 I whine, “Uncle Maaaaaax! We were sparring, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else there.” I lean forward putting my head on his chest and pout, “Please don’t make me do this. Do you know what’ll happen when I hit the top spot? That’s right, another Edward incident. So you either leave the rankings as they are, let me crash at yours or assign me a mean bodyguard for the duration of initiation! Seriously, I can’t sleep with one eye open, I sleep like the dead.” He gives a weary sigh and the next thing I know, I’m over Eric’s shoulder going through corridors that I never knew existed.  
 “Oi! Shit head, put me down. Uncle Max, you tell him to put me down now or I. Will. Scream.” I look him dead in the eye.   
 “Eric.” The bastard was grinning as I was set on my feet. I glared at both of them. “Eric’s got a spare room, he’s now been assigned as your bodyguard for the duration of initiation. We’ve already moved your stuff. You’ll be fine Tris, you’re great in hand-to-hand and you’re perfectly aware of everything that goes on around you.”  
 “It’s still unfair and I refuse to fight anyone under my own rank! Initiates will be given the chance to tap out. I will resist with everything I have if you try to make me do it your way. When are the fights taking place?”  
 “I’ll have everyone awake and ready by seven. We’ll do breakfast, give them some time to settle and then we’ll get started. We’ll do transfer, Dauntless-born all the way through if you’d like.”  
 That gives me an idea and I know that they can see the wheels turning in my head as my face lights up. “Nah, just start from sixth and work up. My last fight will be with Peter and I will beat him without breaking a sweat. What time’s it now?”

 Eric looks at his watch, “Just going on midnight. Six hours of sleep and you’re sorted!” Max and I scoff and Eric looks at us as if we’ve gone crazy.  
 “I’ll be in the training room at half six and we’ll go through what you’ve remembered after your run.”   
 “Umm... Uncle Max, I gotta talk to you both about something tomorrow so can you make sure the cameras and mikes are off in the training room between half six and seven?” He narrows his eyes at me for a few seconds and then we nod to each other. Eric leads the way to his apartment. Once we’re through the door and the light’s are on, I feel my eyes widen.  
 “Hey, Eric? Why do you have so many books? Never mind, don’t answer that, but damn!” All of the walls are lined with different kinds of books. It’s amazing.  
 He’s staring at me, I can feel it and so, I face him. He’s desperately trying to keep a straight face but it’s not working. I raise an eyebrow and he laughs quietly.  
 “You’ve come a long way from being the little girl that kicked my ass as a kid. Anyway, bedrooms are this way. Kitchen’s to your right, bathrooms to your left. There’s a lock on the bathroom door if you decide on a shower in the morning. There’s a spare key on the table in the lounge if you need it.” He opens a door on the far left and steps through and I follow. “This’ll be your room for as long as you need.”  
 The walls and ceiling are black with a black carpet. There’s a double bed in the centre of the back wall, a closet straight across from the door and a dresser under the window. My bags are sitting just inside the door and the bed’s already made. Black and dark purple bed sheets with a flowering pattern about a foot wide going down the centre. I turn back to Eric and kiss his cheek, “Thanks! Did you know that black and purple are my favourite colours?”  
 He rubs the back of his neck and sheepishly admits to having asked Max. I hug him and he stiffens up, “I don’t just hug anyone so you’d bloody well better hug me back!” Eric, the forward, brutal and cruel man hesitates to put his arms around me. I let out a breath and whisper, “Really, thanks Eric. I don’t feel safe in the dorms and there’re a few guys that creep me out. Sexual harassment and stuff. Now, we’d better get some sleep, I’ve got some ass to kick in the morning!” I look up, give him another kiss on the cheek and usher him out.  
 I change into a pair of short shorts and a sports bra. I braid my hair and fall into bed and I’m out like a light.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be posting anything until the end of the week.  
> So far, I have three more chapters written but the order in which they'll be posted is still to be determined. I still have to work on some Undercover stuff and I need to do a tonne for that so bear with me!  
> I will post Friday at the earliest, Sunday night at the latest!
> 
> I do NOT own the Divergent series!

I wake up at five thirty on the dot. Flicking the light switch, I remove the braid and pull my hair back into a bun and pull on some socks and my running shoes. I flick the switch again and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and then to the kitchen for a bottle of water. As I step out of the kitchen, I hear the air moving fast and I duck, “Eric?”  
 There are no lights on and he’s probably still half sleeping. I quickly flip the switch for the hall and get blinded in the process. I shake my head a few times blinking rapidly. When I can finally see again, I just look at him, “Dude, put on some clothes!” He just looks confused.  
 “Did I hit you too hard yesterday or something? You should get that looked at, hope it’s not a concussion. You are now my bodyguard, apparently. You are going to go put some running gear on and you’re going to come running with me.” He just stares at me. “Eric, move!”

 He finally puts clothes on and joins me at the door to his apartment.  
 “What’s the route? I need to stop by Four’s and get him to gather the initiates.”  
 “The route doesn’t matter. I stretch and then run wherever my feet take me for thirty minutes. It doesn’t matter where I end up either.” I start off with hamstrings, moving through quads and calves along with joints.  
 “You sure you shouldn’t have more clothes on? The shorts are tiny but the sports bra’s alright.” I snort.  
 “Really, Eric? You’re the first person I’ve ran with for years and I’ve always worn this which is why five thirty is my wake up. Always has been, always will be. Now, time to run, try to keep up.” My pace is quick, hasn’t ever changed.  
 I hear Eric call out directions from behind me, hopefully getting us back to somewhere I know and am comfortable with. We stop at Four’s to give Eric a rest. Once his conversation is finished, I pick up speed.  
 “Stop looking at my ass, Eric and speed it up! You’re falling behind.”  
 “Hey!” He protests, “It’s a nice ass. I’m just being appreciative.” We run in silence from then on and when the thirty minutes are up, we make our way to the cafeteria for some much needed nourishment.

“Water or coffee?” I ask.  
“Coffee. Pancakes or muffin?”  
“Muffin.” We go separate ways and meet back up in the middle.  
I glance up at the clock and groan.  
“What?”  
“We gotta go meet Max.” We dump our rubbish and jog to the training room.  
We get there just before Max and when he walks in, I see he’s brought ankle, elbow and wrist supports.  
“You couldn’t have worn a longer pair of shorts?”  
“The length of the shorts doesn’t matter, Trooper. Now give me those and you go get warmed up, I’ve already warmed up.” I remove my shoes and socks and struggle a little to get the ankle supports on.  
 I get closer to Max as I attempt to put on the elbow supports.  
 “Hey, Uncle Max. Are the cams off?”  
“Yeah, so say what you want to say.” He helps me put on the rest of my supports when I take a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds.  
“Why are Divergents being hunted?” His shoulders drooped and he let his head fall forward.

“A Divergent is a person that doesn’t fit into any one faction. We don’t know why and we don’t know how we’re different from the rest. Jeanine’s scared of us because, according to her, we’ll bring the system down. She’s afraid of us and so, she’s hunting us down. Cowardice if you ask me.”  
“Does the planned attack on Abnegation have anything to do with it?”  
“How do you know about that?” He brow creases.  
“I make it my business to know. With Jeanine attacking them verbally every chance she gets, something was bound to happen and you just confirmed it. You know that I’ll bring Erudite and Dauntless down if something happens to my parents! You know that I am definitely capable.”  
“Beatrice, nothing will happen to your parents. Why do you think we have all our Reapers and Sunshine’s? Jeanine’s been trying to get Dauntless on her side for months now. The Divergent of our population are another matter, however. They’re people too!”

“Uncle Max,” I whisper. “How am I going to get through stage two?”  
“Think like Dauntless.” He’s sincere.  
“Your first assignment with the Reapers will be after stage one, but before stage two.” He heaves a sigh. “We need to see how well you operate in the field.”  
 “Fine, but just so you know, we’re bringing Jeanine down when the time comes.”  
 “Put all of this out of your mind for now, we’ll figure something out soon! Staying with me will make your life easier. I’ll be your partner throughout.” I forgot he was there. Eric. We step onto the mats, about three feet apart facing the same way.  
 “Now, routine one through ten with no breaks?” And just like that, we’re moving in sync. We don’t bother with the time as we wait for Four to gather the other initiates.  
It’s when we’re halfway through routine six that the doors open, initiates and Dauntless strolling in.  We shut them out and keep going.  
 At the end of routine ten, we let our right legs fall back and use our left legs to lift us, spinning almost horizontal to the ground and land crouched, gracefully.

Our chests are heaving, we’d moved a long way off the mats and the Dauntless were cheering.  
“You’re getting rusty, Trooper!” I chuckle.  
 “I am not! You’re just getting too good.” I glance at the clock and it’s almost seven thirty.  
“Time for a quick break before we get this show on the road, I suppose.” When I step over to my shoes, I hear something coming at me, as if someone threw it. I cock my head to the left and it whizzes past my ear. My right arm lifts of its own volition and snatches a bottle of water out of the air.  
“Peter, you prick! The next time you do that and I will not let you live past today.” I turn back to the crowd and see a lot of the faces I’ve missed! All of them grinning ear to ear. I nod at each of them on my way past. Eric hands me a bottle of water and I sip while I walk back to the mat.  
 Max lifts his arms and the crowd quiets. “Initiate rankings are as follows. Peter, Uriah, Andrew, Sarah, Molly, Will, Tris. Anyone below that, will not be fighting today, your ranks are solid unless someone concedes without trying. But! We have a little something special planned for today. Sit back, relax and enjoy!” The crowd goes nuts! He puts two fingers between his lips and whistles. I see a pale Peter from the corner of my eye.  
 “Now, we need absolute silence. Will, step up and good luck!”  
I know how Will fights so I just stand, rocking back and forth on my feet waiting for him to come to me, and he does.  
 I duck under his arm, grab the back of his t-shirt and pull him towards me. My knee goes into his gut. He heaves and tries to catch his breath. I don’t see the point in prolonging the fight, so one good punch to his temple and he’s unconscious.  
 Two Dauntless lift him from the mat as Molly takes a few shaky steps towards the mat.  
 “Nothing to say this time, Molly? Last time you were talking about the birth mark on my ass cheek. That was after you and two of your friends cornered me when I’d gotten out of the shower and took my towel from me. Need I remind you what happened that day?” I step towards her so that I’m in the middle of the mat. She furiously shakes her head.  
 “I forfeit!”  
The crowd starts a chant of ‘coward’ until Max silences them.  
 “If you forfeit without taking a step onto the mat, you’re factionless.”  
 “I don’t care! I’m not fighting her again, I’m still healing.” She rushes away.  
 “Sarah, you’re up!” I have never seen Sarah fight but this should be fun.  
I close my eyes and I hear mutters of questions, “What’s she doing?”  
Max roars, “I said... Silence!”  
Her steps are nowhere near as light as Max’s. I let a smirk out, and raise my arms up and out to the side.  
She’s quick! She grabs my left wrist and attempts to pull it up behind my back. I move outwards and up to her side and snap my elbow back, she drops.  
I feel the shuffle of two more Dauntless removing her from the mat.  
“Andrew, you’re next!”  
I look to see that he’s taller than me by at least a foot, he’s obviously stronger. He puts his guard up, a little too high. We step toward each other at the same time.  
And again.  
 They always go for the obvious hit. He tries for my face and doesn’t bring his guard back up quick enough. I duck under his arm and kick as high as I can. He staggers but doesn’t go down.  
When he rights himself, I see that I caught his cheek and that just won’t do.  
 “Stop playing!” Max scolds.  
I run toward him, feint left, duck under both arms, jump up and land a solid punch to the temple.  
Three Dauntless move him and then I hear it.  
 “Uriah, you’re up!” I grin.  
“Trissy, go easy on me. You can’t ruin my beautiful face!”  
“Uri, get your game face on and stop playing around. If you get a decent hit in, we’ll do Candor or Dauntless later and I will do any Dauntless you want, as long as it’s not dirty or involves stripping! And if you don’t get a good hit in, it’s the same for you.” His smile lights up his whole face and I see the Dauntless mania shine through.  
“Alright, you’re on!”  
I crouch, not too low but not too high, guarding my abdomen. I step-shuffle towards him with my guard up. He just stands, watching. I catalogue everything about his posture, from the position of his feet to the position of his hands. His back is his weak spot.  
“Hey, Uri? Catch me!” I run towards him and he straightens up, like an idiot!  
 I jump and as soon as I know he’s going to catch me, I twist so I’m facing away from him. He attempts to grab me but I slip through his grasp and his legs, quickly stand up and knock him out using the pressure point at the neck. I make sure to catch him so his face isn’t damaged. Lord knows I’d never hear the end of it if I did!  
Zeke and Shauna step forward almost doubled over with laughter. They struggle to lift him because they’re laughing too hard and end up dragging by the arms.  
  
 I look to Peter and I know the smug is all over my face. I roll my head and shoulders and take a breath. I just stood and watched him as he paced back and forth, trying to psych himself up.  
 “I was lost now I'm found, I'm sustained by the sound of the angels singing me to sleep, while my feet are leaving the ground. Am I dead? Or am I dreaming instead? A cornucopia of opiates have flooded my head.”

He stopped pacing and faced me, loosening his shoulders.  
“She won’t go easy on you, Peter. Not at all!” Eric.

 “I'm insane, I am smart, all it takes, is a spark, to ignite my bad intentions and do what I do best to your heart. Don't be fooled I was raised by the wolves, now the moon hangs in full, so you know I won't play by the rules.  
“I will never spill, spill my blood for you. You have let me down, one too many times. Someway somehow, we've fallen out, caught in between my enemies. No way not now, I won't back down,I draw the line at you and me. You’re what I started, now disregarded. One day they'll see, it was always me.”

He attempts to find a weakness in my defence and grumbles when he can’t.  
“No playing around, Tris. You’re on a time limit. If he’s not down in the next minute, you’re second place.”  
“Is that right Uncle Max?” I don’t spare him a glance. I’m solely focused on Peter.  
I step towards him and he steps back.  
I try again and he does the same thing.  
“What’s the matter, Peter? You corner me with Molly and Drew thinking I’m too Abnegation and vulnerable to show some skin and now you’re running away. How very cowardly of you!” I snort.  
“Uncle Max? Which rank does he take if he doesn’t engage?”  
“None! I’ll give you another minute because of him.”  
“That’s it! Everybody on Peter’s side, move back. If he leaves the mat, he’s done for!” They all back up as I take another step towards him. He stays rooted to the spot, his jaw is set and I see the determination on his face.  
“Well, coward! I’ll let to take first swing,” I say as I take another step toward him. “But after that, who knows?”  
He doesn’t say anything but moves forward slightly.  
“Spill my blood for you, one too many times.”  
He takes a swing and I am unforgiving. With each word of the song, I give him another hit, getting under his defences within seconds. I strike blow after blow.  
“Someway somehow, we've fallen out, caught in between my enemies. No way not now, I won't back down. I draw the line at you and me. You’re what I started, now disregarded. One day they'll see, it was always...”  
I punch him square in the nose while singing, “Me!”  
I hear a crunch and then he drops forward like a sack of potatoes!

I don’t register the noise of the crowd. I just stand, staring down at Peter. I need to make sure he’s breathing.  
 I kneel next to him and turn him over, his breathing is extremely shallow and too fast to be healthy. I look up and see two big muscled men, “You two!” I point at them, “Get him to hospital now or he’s going to die in the next ten minutes!”  
 They just stare at me.  
“Now!” I scream.  
That makes them move.

I lean back onto my heels and look up at the ceiling. No-one comes near me until my breathing has slowed. I close my eyes and bow my head. Then I’m being hoisted up and carried bridal out of the room. I don’t look to see who it is, I don’t care who it is and they don’t talk. They walk for what feel like forever until they finally come to a door and then I’m juggled around until I hear the key in the lock. They kick the door shut and keep walking. When they finally stop, I open my eyes to see that I’m in a bathroom. The person sets me down on the edge of the bath, making sure I don’t lose balance.  
I finally look up to see Eric.  
“I almost killed him,” I whisper. “I almost killed him. I mean, I know he’s an asshole but he doesn’t deserve to die just for that!” I frantically scrub at my face until Eric grabs my wrist in a firm, but gentle grip.  
“Hey!” he says. “Look at me!” I keep my eyes down. “Look at me!”  
I hesitantly look up.  
“He’s been nothing but an ass to you since the start, he deserved a kicking. Does he deserve to die? No, probably not but...” I try to interrupt, “But! He’s been goading you, some could say he provoked it and you finally burst. Had it been me, I probably would’ve killed him, but that’s just me!”  
“True but he still could’ve died.”  
 “Tris! No more thinking on it. I’m gonna get the shower started, I’ll be back in a minute with clean towels. Don’t lock the door I don’t want to have to break it down if something happens to you in here.” I give a minute nod.

Eric’s back within a few minutes with clean towels. He turns the shower on and adjusts the temperature a few times. “Take all the time you need,” he says as he leaves the room.  
I heave a sigh and remove my supports, they’re going to need to be washed. Once I’ve stripped, I step into the shower and the temperature’s a few degrees below scalding.  
I get washed quickly and just stand, hands against the wall, head bowed for, I don’t know how long.  
The water stops and I feel a towel being wrapped around me. Eric squeezes out my hair and shuffles me into my room. I think I’m in shock. I feel disconnected, as if everything it happening to someone else and I’m just seeing through their eyes.

He makes me sit on the corner of my bed and towel dries my hair, then he pulls my hair brush and dryer out.  
“Ugh!” I shake my head, “I gotta get dressed. Give me a few minutes, please?”  
“Sure, shout if you need anything.” He closes the door as he leaves.  
I stand and quickly dry myself off, running the towel through my hair again.  
I go to the closet and grab a pair of black skinny jeans, ripped at the knee, a black corset with maroon trim and the maroon heels that Christina made me get.  
When I’m finished dressing and drying my hair, I go to find Eric.  
He’s chilling out on the sofa, reading a book. I drop my shoes next to him on the floor and join him.

I didn’t realise I’d fallen asleep until I’m being shaken. I groan.  
“Leave me alone, I’m comfy!”  
“Come on, Tris. You gotta eat, it’s dinner time!” Eric.  
“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” I get up, brush my hair out with my fingers and step into my shoes.

We get to the cafeteria not long after Christina, Will and Al.  
When we step through the doorway, I peck Eric’s cheek and join my friends at a table.  
“Hey, where’ve you been?” asks Christina.  
“Went back to Eric’s for a shower, got ready and then fell asleep. I don’t even know how I managed, I couldn’t even walk out of the training room.”  
“Seriously? You beat five people, not to mention going half out on Peter and you don’t know how you lost a tonne of energy?” Al shakes his head.  
“Nope. I didn’t even think about it, I just done what I had to do.” I shrug. “Just tell me he’s not dead!”  
“Nah, he’s pretty banged up though. Not long out of surgery.”  
“So,” I say. “Anyone know the song ‘I see fire’?”  
Christina’s face lights up and the guys nod.

I start a soft beat on the table and sing the opening.  
“Oh, misty eye of the mountain below, keep careful watch of my brothers' souls. And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke, keep watching over Durin's son.”  
 Christina joins me, “If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together. Watch the flames climb high into the night. Calling out father, stand by and we will, watch the flames burn auburn on the mountain side.  
Will and Al join, “And if we should die tonight, then we should all die together. Raise a glass of wine for the last time, calling out father, prepare as we will, watch the flames burn auburn on the mountain side. Desolation comes upon the sky.”  
 I sing, “Now I see fire, inside the mountain. I see fire, burning the trees and I see fire, hollowing souls.  
I see fire, blood in the breeze, and I hope that you'll remember me.”  
 Christina and Will, “Oh, should my people fall, then surely I'll do the same, confined in mountain halls. We got too close to the flame, calling out father, hold fast and we will, watch the flames burn auburn on the mountain side. Desolation comes upon the sky.” I notice the Dauntless at the table surrounding us copying the beat.  
 I sing, “Now I see fire, inside the mountain. I see fire, burning the trees and I see fire, hollowing souls. I see fire, blood in the breeze, and I hope that you'll remember me.”  
 All four of us, “And if the night is burning, I will cover my eyes. For if the dark returns then my brothers will die, and as the sky's falling down, it crashed into this lonely town. And with that shadow upon the ground, I hear my people screaming out. Now I see fire, inside the mountain. I see fire, burning the trees. I see fire, hollowing souls. I see fire, blood in the breeze.  
 “I see fire, oh you know I saw a city burning, fire. I see fire, feel the heat upon my skin, fire. And I see fire, fire, and I see fire burn auburn on the mountain side.”  The room remains silent.

 

“Great entertainment!” I hear Max.

I look up at him on the balcony and grin, “You know it!”

“Stage one is finished! You can’t prepare for stage two. The rankings, from first to last are; Tris, Uriah, Sarah, Andrew, Will, Peter, Christina...” I tune out until he’s finished. “The four with the lowest rankings will be leaving us in the morning. Those of you who’ve made it to stage two, congratulations. You’ve done us proud so far, keep it up!”

 

The Dauntless cheer and clap and shout. My friends and I wear proud grins.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 will be posted tomorrow as planned. Afterwards, I will be writing Monday-Thursday, editing Friday and possibly Saturday, and posting on Sunday. I'm also working on something of my own so please, bear with me =)  
> Enjoy!

Later, I find myself sitting in a random corridor, for absolutely no reason. My head is bowed and I keep thinking about this morning’s events.  
“Tris?” I look up. Uriah stops in front of me. He waves along the Dauntless-born initiates he walks with. They exchange looks but keep moving.  
“You okay?” he asks.  
“Yeah, I had a pretty eventful day if you need a reminder.”  
“Yeah, you kicked ass!” He grins, “Want to get out of here?”  
“What?” I ask, “Where are you going?”  
“To a little initiation ritual, Dauntless style! Come on, we have to hurry.”  
 I briefly consider my options. I can sit here. Or I can leave the Dauntless compound. I push myself to my feet and jog next to Uriah to catch up to the Dauntless-born initiates.   
“The only initiates they usually let come are ones with older siblings in Dauntless,” he says. “But they might not even notice. Just act like you belong.”   
“What exactly are we doing?”   
“Something dangerous,” he says. The Dauntless mania enters his eyes, but rather than recoil from it, I catch it, like it’s contagious. Excitement replaces the leaden feeling inside me. We slow when we reach the Dauntless-born initiates.  
 “What’s she doing here?” asks a boy with a metal ring between his nostrils. Uriah laughs.

“She kicked ass this morning, Gabe, she can do whatever the hell she wants!”   
Gabe shrugs and turns away. No-one else says anything but some give me side-long glances, as if their sizing me up.

 

We turn another corner, and a group of members stands at the end of the next hallway. There are too many of them to all be related to a Dauntless-born initiate, but I see some similarities among the faces.

“Let’s go,” one of the members says. He turns and plunges through a dark doorway. The other members follow him, and we follow them. I stay close behind Uriah as I pass into darkness and my toe hits a step. I catch myself before falling forward and start to climb.

“Back staircase,” Uriah says, almost mumbling. “Usually locked.”

I nod, though he can’t see me, and climb until all the steps are gone. By then, a door at the top of the staircase is open, letting in moonlight. We emerge from the ground a few hundred yards from the glass building above the Pit, close to the train tracks.

I feel like I have done this a thousand times before. I hear the train horn. I feel the vibrations in the ground. I see the light attached to the head car. I crack my knuckles and bounce once on my toes.

We jog in a single pack next to the car, and in waves, members and initiates alike pile into the car. Uriah gets in before me, and people press behind me. I can’t make any mistakes; I throw myself sideways, grabbing the handle on the side of the car, and hoist myself into the car. Uriah grabs my arm to steady me.  

The train picks up its speed. Uriah and I sit against one of the walls.

I shout over the wind, “Where are we going?”

Uriah shrugs. “Zeke never told me.”

“You don’t get to know, it ruins the surprise,” the girl on my left shouts. “I’m Shauna.”

“I’m –“  I start to say.

“I know who you are,” she says. “You’re all anyone could talk about today.”  
My brow crease, “The fights this morning?”  
“Yep!” She gets up and goes to stand with the other Dauntless near the door. “Here we go!”

 

The train doesn’t slow down, but she throws herself out of the car. The other members follow her, a stream of black-clothed, pierced people not much older than I am. I stand in the doorway next to Uriah. The train is going much faster than it has every other time I’ve jumped, but I can’t lose my nerve now, in front of all these members. So I jump, hitting the ground hard and stumbling forward a few steps before I regain my balance.

 Uriah and I jog to catch up to the members, along with the other initiates, who barely look in my direction.

 I look around as I walk. The Hub is behind us, black against the clouds, but the buildings around me are dark and silent. That means we must be north of the bridge, where the city is abandoned.

 We turn a corner and spread out as we walk down Michigan Avenue. South of the bridge, Michigan Avenue is a busy street, crawling with people, but here it is bare.

 As soon as I lift my eyes to scan the buildings, I know where we’re going: the empty Hancock building, a black pillar with crisscrossed girders, the tallest building north of the bridge.

 But what are we going to do? Climb it?

 As we get closer, the members start to run, and Uriah and I sprint to catch them. Jostling one another with their elbows, they push through a set of doors at the building’s base. The glass in one of them is broken, so it is just a frame. I step through it instead of opening it and follow the members through an eerie, dark entryway, crunching broken glass beneath my feet.

 I expect us to go up the stairs, but we stop at the elevator bank.

“Do the elevators work?” I ask Uriah, as quietly as I can.

 “Sure they do,” says Zeke, rolling his eyes. “You think I’m stupid enough not to come here early and turn on the emergency generator?”

“Yeah,” says Uriah. “I kinda do.”

 Zeke glares at his brother then puts him in a headlock and rubs his knuckles into Uriah’s skull. Zeke may be smaller than Uriah, but he must be stronger. Or at least faster. Uriah smacks him in the side, and he lets go.

 I grin at the sight of Uriah’s dishevelled hair, and the elevator doors open. We pile in, members in one and initiates in the other. A girl with a shaved head stomps on my toes on the way in and doesn’t apologize. I grab my foot, wincing, and consider kicking her in the shins. Uriah stares at his reflection in the elevator doors and pats his hair down.

 “What floor?” the girl with the shaved head says.

 “One hundred,” I say.

“How would _you_ know that?”

 “Lynn, come on,” says Uriah. “Be nice.”

“We’re in a one-hundred-story abandoned building with some Dauntless,” I retort. “Why don’t _you_ know that?”

 She doesn’t respond. She just jams her thumb into the right button.

The elevator zooms upward so fast my stomach sinks and my ears pop. I grab a railing at the side of the elevator, watching the numbers climb. We pass twenty, and thirty, and Uriah’s hair is finally smooth. Fifty, sixty, and my toes are done throbbing. Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, and the elevator comes to a stop at one hundred. I’m glad we didn’t take the stairs.

“I wonder how we’ll get to the roof from…” Uriah’s voice trails off.

 A strong wind hits me, pushing my hair across my face. There is a gaping hole in the ceiling of the hundredth floor. Zeke props an aluminium ladder against its edge and starts to climb. The ladder creaks and sways beneath his feet, but he keeps climbing, whistling as he does. When he reaches the roof, he turns around and holds the top of the ladder for the next person.

 Part of me wonders if this is a suicide mission disguised as a game.

It isn’t the first time I’ve wondered that since the Choosing Ceremony.

I climb the ladder after Uriah. It reminds me of climbing the rungs on the Ferris wheel.

 I almost miss a step on the ladder. Stupid.

 Biting my lip, I make it to the top and stand on the roof of the Hancock building.

 The wind is so powerful I hear and feel nothing else. I have to lean against Uriah to keep from falling over. At first, all I see is the marsh, wide and brown and everywhere, touching the horizon, devoid of life. In the other direction is the city, and in many ways it is the same, lifeless and with limits I do not know.

Uriah points to something.  Attached to one of the poles on top of the tower is a steel cable as thick as my wrist. On the ground is a pile of black slings made of tough fabric, large enough to hold a human being. Zeke grabs one and attaches it to a pulley that hangs from the steel cable.

 I follow the cable down, over the cluster of buildings and along Lake Shore Drive. I don’t know where it ends. One thing is clear, though: If I go through with this, I’ll find out.

 We’re going to slide down a steel cable in a black sling from one thousand feet up.

 “Oh my God,” says Uriah.

“Not having second thoughts, are you?” I can barely hear myself.

  Shauna is the first person to get in the sling. She wriggles forward on her stomach until most of her body is supported by black fabric. Then Zeke pulls a strap across her shoulders, the small of her back, and the top of her thighs. He pulls her, in the sling, to the edge of the building and counts down from five. Shauna gives a thumbs-up as he shoves her forward, into nothingness.

 Lynn gasps as Shauna hurtles toward the ground at a steep incline, headfirst. I push past her to see better. Shauna stays secure in the sling for as long as I can see her, and then she’s too far away, just a black speck over Lake Shore Drive.

 The members whoop and pump their fists and form a line, sometimes shoving one another out of the way to get a better place. Somehow I am the first initiate in line, right in front of Uriah. Only two people stand between me and the zip line.

 

 Finally, it’s my turn.

 I shudder as Zeke hangs my sling from the cable. I try to climb in, but I have trouble; my hands are shaking too badly.

 “Don’t worry, just remember to pull the break at the bottom,” Zeke says right next to my ear. He takes my arm and helps me get in, facedown.

The straps tighten around my midsection and Zeke slides me forward, to the edge of the roof. I stare down the building’s steel girders and black windows, all the way to the cracked sidewalk. I am a fool for doing this. And a fool for enjoying the feeling of my heart slamming against my sternum and sweat gathering in the lines of my palms.

 “Ready, Stiff?” Zeke smirks down at me. “I have to say, I’m impressed that you aren’t screaming and crying right now.”

 “I told you,” Uriah says. “She’s Dauntless through and through. Now get on with it.” 

 “Careful, brother, or I might not tighten your straps enough,” Zeke says. He smacks his knee. “And then, splat!”

 “Yeah, yeah,” Uriah says. “And then our mother would boil you alive.” Hearing him talk about his mother, about his intact family, makes my chest hurt for a second, like someone pierced it with a needle.

Zeke turns to me, “Remember the break!”

He swings me once, twice and then let’s go.

I forget him, I forget Uriah, and family, and all the things that could malfunction and lead to my death. I hear metal sliding against metal and feel wind so intense it forces tears into my eyes as I hurtle toward the ground.

I feel like I am without substance, without weight. Ahead of me there are building on either side. The air is so cold and so fast that it hurts my face. I pick up speed and a shout of exhilaration rises within me, stopped only by the wind that fills my mouth the second my lips part.

Held secure by the straps, I throw my arms out to the side and imagine that I am flying. I pass a building with mirror-like windows and it looks like I’m flying. I pass through a building, which has a hole through it.

 I can imagine, up here, how everything looked before the great war.

  My heart beats so hard it hurts, and I can’t scream and I can’t breathe, but I also feel everything, every vein and every fibre, every bone and every nerve, all awake and buzzing in my body as if charged with electricity. I am pure adrenaline.

I spot some blue lights getting closer and I am thrust downward.

The ground grows and bulges beneath me and I see specks in the distance that are getting bigger. It must be the other Dauntless.

I look down and the ground smears beneath me, all gray and white and black, glass and pavement and steel. Tendrils of wind, soft as hair, wrap around my fingers and push my arms back. The ground grows bigger and bigger.

A couple hundred feet and it not so steep but I am hurtling towards a giant steel wall with a tiny hole in it for the wire.

I hear people screaming at me to pull the break but I can’t reach and have a tiny panic attack.  
Finally, I have a hold of it and pull as hard as I can.

 When I’ve come to a stop, The Dauntless twenty feet below me pump their fists and cheer, and I’m right there with them.

A crowd of members stands below. They grasp one another’s arms, forming a net of limbs beneath me. In order to get down, I have to trust them to catch me. I have to accept that these people are mine, and I am theirs. It is a braver act than sliding down the zip line.

When they’re all set, I pull the release for the harness and fall. I hit their arms hard. Wrist bones and forearms press into my back, and then palms wrap around my arms and pull me to my feet. I don’t know which hands hold me and which hands don’t; I see grins and hear laughter.

“What’d you think?” Shauna says, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Um…” All the members stare at me. They look as windblown as I feel, the frenzy of adrenaline in their eyes and their hair askew. I know why my father said the Dauntless were a pack of madmen. He didn’t—couldn’t—understand the kind of camaraderie that forms only after you’ve all risked your lives together.

 “When can I go again?” I say. My smile stretches wide enough to show teeth, and when they laugh, I laugh. I think of climbing the stairs with the Abnegation, our feet finding the same rhythm, all of us the same. This isn’t like that. We are not the same. But we are, somehow, one.

 I look toward the Hancock building, which is so far from where I stand that I can’t see the people on its roof.

“Look! There he is!” someone says, pointing over my shoulder. I follow the pointed finger toward a small dark shape sliding down the steel wire. A few seconds later I hear a bloodcurdling scream.

“I bet he’ll cry.”

 “Zeke’s brother, cry? No way. He would get punched so hard.”

“He sounds like a strangled cat,” I say. Everyone laughs again. I feel a twinge of guilt for teasing Uriah when he can’t hear me, but I would have said the same thing if he were standing here. I hope.

 When Uriah finally comes to a stop, I follow the members to meet him. We line up beneath him and thrust our arms into the space between us. Shauna clamps a hand around my elbow. I grab another arm—I’m not sure who it belongs to, there are too many tangled hands—and look up at her.

 

When we eventually get back to the compound, I go straight to Eric’s apartment.

“Enjoy tonight?” he asks.

“Damn straight!” I smile.

I go to my room and brush out my hair. Falling back onto my bed, I laugh.

“What are you laughing at in there?”

I go back to the lounge, “I’m too pumped up to sleep and I have nothing to do!”

“Do you have a tattoo yet?” I nod. “Piercing?” I shake my head.

 

Right on cue, “All Reapers, report to the Chasm! I repeat, all Reapers report to the Chasm, over.”

 

“Doesn’t matter. We’ve got somewhere to be.” I braid my hair and throw on a jacket.

“Aw,” he whines. “I wanted to introduce you to your first piercing!”

 “Does the baby want to go for a piercing instead of doing his job? Get your ass in gear and move it! We don’t have all night and it’s already after eleven.”

 We make our way to the chasm to see Max, Uriah and two people I’ve never met before. A man with many tattoos and a bald head, and a woman with dark purple hair and a few piercings. We lean in close together so that we can hear Max well enough.

 

“Ladies, gents! We have a package and it needs to be delivered within the next three hours. Two and three will go ahead and secure the package for transportation. Four and five will pick them up. Six and myself will bring up the rear, make sure no one’s following. If we blow this, we’ve blown our cover then we’re all as good as dead, got it?” Max pulls Eric and I to the side.

 

“Take this,” he hands me a folded sheet of paper, “she’ll ask for a codeword, just give her that and all will be good. Fifth floor of the Hancock building, there are arms in most of the lighting fixtures. Bring enough for everyone, we might need it. Erudite are getting closer and soon enough, we won’t be able to move as freely as we do.” He turns back to everyone.  
“Everyone clear on their assignments?” We all nod.  
“Okay, time to move out people!”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .. I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
>  I’m just messing around with it.
> 
> REMEMBER!!!! Chapter 10 will be the last chapter until next weekend.  
> I will write during the week and I WILL post any finished chapter I have on Sunday’s.

It takes us forty minutes to reach the building on foot, and even then it’s tricky. The Erudite have patrols of the area so we have to be extremely careful.  
 Eventually at the fifth floor, we crawl through the open door, surveying our surroundings. I hear hushed whispers straight ahead. We stand and slowly make our way toward the voices and when we reach them, I see a small girl in black bottoms and a white jacket, and what looks to be her mother.  
 “Ma’am?” I whisper. She whirls around and stands protectively in front of her daughter. I hold my hands up, palms facing her, “We’re not here to hurt you. I have a written message for you. We need to move asap!” I hand her the paper and look around her to the child.  
 “Hey sweetheart, can you do us a favour and turn your jacket inside out? We need everything we can to be as dark as possible? Call him two and me, three if you need to.” She does as I ask and I turn to Eric.

“Get the weapons! If Erudite are out there, we’re going to need them. Oh, and I picked something up for you on our way out.” I smirk and pull two bandanas from my back pocket. Both have mandibles on them, basically a skeleton of the jaws.  
We pull ourselves up onto tables underneath lighting fixtures, removing panels here and there searching for weapons. When we have enough, Eric slings one bag over his shoulders, I do the same with another and we split the third.   
 There are eight throwing knives, four handguns and two rifles with extra ammunition.   
 Eric talks into his comms device, “Package is secure, moving out, over!”

“Ma’am, we need to be quiet but we need to be able to move fast. Three bring up the rear and make sure no one’s following.”   
 As we exit the floor, I keep an eye on the package and the other on our surroundings. At the bottom of the stairwell, Eric holds up a closed fist and I put a hand on the woman to stop her from advancing.  
 Making sure the coast is clear, Eric moves forward. Suddenly he drops into a roll, hiding behind a pillar. I pull both persons back and edge my way to the door. I vaguely see a group of people just outside the building. They’re armed and considered hostile.

 “R-three to R-one, we have multiple hostiles in the area. I repeat; multiple hostiles. R-two has been separated, I’ll try to find another way out but we could use a distraction.”  
 “Belay that, hostiles have been neutralised!” What? I took my eyes off Eric for less than thirty seconds and he’s already neutralised them? Guy’s freakishly efficient.  
 “Fine, but we gotta move. I’m getting antsy here and I don’t like being antsy.” I lead the package through the door, stopping every few steps to check our surroundings. “Let’s get this done quick. Two, you’re waking up the guy that does piercings. I need something to tell my friends in the morning and they won’t believe I just went zip-lining.”  
  
“We’ll meet you two blocks South with transport.”  
  
“Let’s pick up the pace!” I double back, keeping an eye out for movement.  
It takes twenty minutes to go two blocks because Eric was taking extra precautions. Honestly, you’d think the guy was paranoid. Although, I suppose in this situation, he has every right to be.  
 After what seems like forever, an armoured truck appears.   
 “What the hell is this? We’re supposed to be doing invisible operations and you grabbed this thing? It’s big, it’s bold and it’s annoying as hell.”  
 “Hey! It was either this or moving through the sewers and you know that stuff doesn’t wash out. It’s a waste of clothing. Now get in the fucking truck so we can get moving!”  
 “Fine, asshole! Just for that, we’re sending you to wake up the guy that does piercings Five.”  
 “Nah, he’s already awake. Turns out R-four here is really good at piercings.”  
 “Shut up and drive, you moron! I’d like to get some sleep tonight. I gotta talk to you later, Two. We have a problem.”

 

We get to the gate and Max has already authorised an opening, saying something about an urgent meeting with Johanna Reyes and violent spouses. We get through with no problems. Almost home free!  
 Dropping the woman and child off is much simpler than getting them out of the city. We stay for roughly a half hour and then make our way back to the gate. Johanna will take care of the rest. Max says he has a couple of trusted guards on the outer perimeter of Amity lands so all should go according to plan, unless the Erudite already know what we’re doing considering people are going missing every now and then.   
 Clear of the gate, Max and Eric drop us off at the train tracks and we have to use the members’ entrance. They can explain being out on their own, say they couldn’t sleep and decided to check on the guards at the gates in the middle of the night. What they couldn’t explain, however, is being out and about with two initiates and two members of the faction.  
  
Getting into the compound is easy and takes no time at all. There are no cameras in this part of the compound and so, we’re able to go unseen. When we hit the Pit, we split up. I follow Reaper Four to the piercing place, Uriah and the woman disappear back to their places of sleep, I’m guessing.  


 “So, Three,” Reaper Four says, “What can I do for you tonight?”  
 “Give me three dermals above my left eyebrow. Start at the crown and work your way out. I don’t want any of the heavy stuff, that seems to suit the men better and considering I’m a small person with a slight figure, I need something Dauntless but feminine!”  
 “I have just the thing.” He readies his equipment and points to the chair, “This won’t take long. Once they’re done, all you need to do it clean the excess blood off in the morning. Don’t touch them with dirty hands and don’t play around with them. That’s cause enough for infection. I’ll give you some healing salve for the morning.”  
 “Ok, let’s get this over with. If I don’t do this now, Eric will drag me here at some point anyway.” I take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds. I let it out slowly and that’s when piercing one starts. I repeat the process with the other two and then get up to look in the mirror. They look good and they’ll look even better then they’re healed. I hand over my points card but he waves it away.  
“Consider it a ‘congratulations on your first assignment’ gift. Besides, Eric will pay for it when he finds out I didn’t charge you.”  
 “It’s not my first assignment, it’s my second. The first was when I was ten and had to help my mother protect some people. Please, just take the payment.” I’m practically begging but I don’t care. I can’t have Eric paying for what I want. I can’t have anyone paying for what I want.

 

 When he takes the payment and returns my card, I make my way back to Eric’s to find that he’s not home yet and the place is shrouded in darkness.   
 “Reaper Three, come in Reaper Three.”  
 “This is Reaper Three; state your name and business using this frequency.”  
 “I need help, Reaper. Respond.”  
“Help with what?”  
“Multiple packages,”  
“Move them through Sector Six. Reapers can’t do much tonight. We’re on lockdown until the end of initiation. The countdown is on; T minus nine days. Get as many to Sector Six as you can. Get them all out if you can. If you can’t, they’ll die. Reaper Three is going dark!”

 

I shut off my comms devices and apply the battery supply. It’s like a magnet that sits over the skin. It remotely chargers the small batteries within the device that’s under the skin, and people say Erudite are the only smart people! That thought makes me chuckle.  


I go to my room to change for bed when I hear the door opening. No one calls out, so I know it won’t be Eric or Max. I hit the panic button located behind the door.

 

 Max had Eric install it when I moved in because they know how some people can get. We all know how some people can get and we know that if our cover has been blown, hell will rain down upon us in the form of Erudite. The panic button sends a signal out to the closest Reapers and they have less than five minutes to respond. Considering I deactivated my comms units, I can’t contact anyone until its finished charging and that usually takes the whole night.

 

I can hear heavy footsteps and heavier breathing. I am standing behind the door, watching for whomever it is coming closer. I am tense and afraid, and ready to defend myself if I have to. My heartbeat has skyrocketed, my breathing is shallow. I am on the edge of panic.  
 When the bathroom light goes on, I see the silhouette of the person disappearing. As soon as the door is closed, I make my way to the front door as quietly as I can. When it’s open, I see Eric, Max, Uriah and the man that done my piercings.  
I mouth ‘in the bathroom’ to them. Just as I finish, we hear the toilet flush. Max pulls me from the room while Eric and R-four check it out. Uriah stands protectively in front of me as does Max.  
  
“Dammit, Jerry!” Eric shouts. “How many times do I have to tell you that I already have a houseguest? You gotta go home, man!”

 We hear words being slurred and mispronounced. Turns out that Jerry’s extremely intoxicated, all the while, nearly killing me!  
 I take a deep breath, and another, and a third. R-Four and Max take Jerry off Eric’s hands, sends Uriah back to the dorms and leave me with Eric.  
  
 “Tris, are you okay?” I’m leaning against the wall, still trying to bring my heartbeat back down to normal. I don’t look up until I can support myself without shaking.  


 “I almost had a heart attack and I was ready to hurt him just because he came into your apartment in the middle of the night. What is wrong with people? Don’t they see everything that’s going on around them? Do they have no sense? Do they just think, ‘oh well, Tris is staying at Eric’s because her life is in danger, let’s see if her heart will give out to go with it’?” I’m nearing hysteria and suddenly, I can’t calm down. My breathing has picked up again.  
 I pace, waving my hands in front of my face attempting to get myself under control.  
“What is wrong with me? Not everyone’s out to get me, so why does someone not calling out when they come through the door get to me?”

 

He grabs me and pulls me into the apartment. The door closes with a dull thud. I am handed a glass of water and told to sit still. He takes my pulse rate, which is still racing.  
 “Come on, I’m sleeping in your bed tonight. You look exhausted.”  
 “Of course I’m exhausted, did you see what we had to go through tonight? And then again when one of your friends decided it’d be fun to use your bathroom in the middle of the night? God! I’m not even calm and I was calm before you started shouting at your...” He clamps a hand over my mouth and basically drags me to my bedroom.  


He pulls back the covers, forces me into a lying position and attempts to tuck me in. That sends me into a fit of giggles. It come out of nowhere, so here I am, rolling around in my bed because I can’t keep my laugh under control and he’s staring at me as if I’ve grown another head.  
 “What did I get myself into when I said I’d work with you?” And just like that, my giggles stop.

 “Hell! That’s what you got yourself into, but it’s gotta stop. You need to convince Max to let Jeanine go ahead with the attack on Abnegation. My parents will have most, if not, everyone out by the end of initiation. We need to know what she wants and why.” I start humming the tune to The Phoenix, sung by Fall Out Boy; a rock group from before the Purity War.  
  
Eric strips to his underwear and climbs in next to me. I place my head on his chest and focus on his heartbeat. It’s way too fast to be normal.  
 “Hey, Eric? Why’s your heart beating so fast?”  
 “Oh, you know, I’m in bed with my boss’ niece’s head on my chest.” I hum an affirmation and we’re quiet for a while. His heartbeat finally starts to slow.  
 “Hey, Eric?” I look up at him.  
 “Yes?”  
 “We need to stop this! I need to go back to sleeping in the dorms. My friends are getting suspicious because they rarely see me and I need to be with them when shit goes down.” I already hate this plan. I know that if it doesn’t happen, things could go awry, fast.  
“You know what that means?”   
 “Unfortunately, I do.” He heaves a sigh and murmurs something else, but I’m already too far gone.

 

 

I get to the cafeteria a little late. I had to clean the excess blood off my face before I went for my run this morning. I woke up with my pillow stuck to my face.

“Where were you last night?” asks Christina.

 “Uriah…you know, the Dauntless-born who was on our capture the flag team?” I say. “He was leaving with some of the members and he begged them to let me come along. They didn’t really want me there. Some girl named Lynn stepped on me. Then Eric decided it’d be fun to drag me out for my first piercing!” I lift my hair away from my face to show them.

“They may not have wanted you there then,” says Will quietly, “but they seem to like you now. They’re trying to catch your attention. Damn! Those look good.”

“Yeah,” I say. I turn and wave, but I can’t deny it. “I’m glad to be back on solid ground, though!”

 Hopefully they can’t tell I’m lying, but I suspect they can.

 “Well, you missed Christina almost punching an Erudite,” says Al. His voice sounds eager. I can count on Al to try to break the tension. “He was here asking for opinions about the Abnegation leadership, and Christina told him there were more important things for him to be doing.”

 “Which she was completely right about,” adds Will. “And he got testy with her. Big mistake.”  “Huge,” I say, nodding. If I smile enough, maybe I can make them forget their jealousy, or hurt, or whatever is brewing behind Christina’s eyes.

 “Yeah,” she says. “While you were off having fun, I was doing the dirty work of defending your old faction, eliminating interfaction conflict…”

 “Come on, you know you enjoyed it,” says Will, nudging her with his elbow. “If you’re not going to tell the whole story, I will. He was standing…”

 Will launches into his story, and I nod along like I’m listening, but all I can think about is the impending doom of the fight I have to have with Eric. I look over Will’s shoulder at the members, who are now flicking bits of food at one another with their forks.

 It’s the first time I have dreaded being one of them.

 Which means I definitely have to survive the next stage of initiation.  
  
At the end of breakfast, I spot Eric heading to the training rooms and I run to catch up. We get through the door and he stops, still facing away from me.  
 “You know that if we do this, we need to act like we hate each other?” He nods and I place a hand on his shoulder, “Just know that no matter what happens, or what’s said, you’re still my Sweets and I apologise in advance for anything that may come!”  
He sighs, ignores me and starts toward the punching bags. It’s as if he’s holding the world on his shoulders and it’s weighing him down. I don’t like it but I can’t do anything about it because everything that’s happening, must happen.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N; I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.  
> Fun times are ahead of us as we hit the simulations.  
> Enjoy!

 A joyful day of shopping with Christina, not. I got a new tattoo on the right side of my rib cage.

_‘F.E.A.R  
_ Forget Everything And Run  
 or __  
Face Everything And Rise’

It’s perfect for my chosen faction. The shopping bags have been dropped off and we’re making our way to the cafeteria for dinner. We stand in line like everyone else.  
 We make our way to a clear table. The chatter picks up, seats are being used, everyone’s in good spirits, except me.  
 “Tris, what’s wrong? You don’t look so good!” Christina enquires, forever observing every little thing.  
 “Nothing,” I keep my head down.   
“Aw, is something wrong with the Stiff?” My head snaps up, my eyes narrow and my nostrils flare.  
 “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me ‘Stiff’?” I really don’t want to do this. I can’t tell you how much I don’t want to do this because there are not enough words for this situation.   
“I don’t know. When are you going to stop being so stiff?”  
 “Funny you should say that, shit head! Dauntless is in my blood so keep your trap shut and go away.”   
He laughs, coldly. “Are you smart-mouthing a leader?”  
“No, you dick! I’m smart-mouthing an arrogant, selfish, pansy cake.” I regret everything I’m saying. “Is this still about our team beating yours at Capture the Flag? Because it was my plan that beat you, or is it about me kicking your ass, literally and figuratively?” I cannot believe I’m saying these words.

“It’s about the fact that you’re still a Stiff at heart. You’re not Dauntless enough!” He’s purposely goading me and I can’t stop the reaction.  
 I laugh cruelly, “I’m not Dauntless enough? I didn’t know I had to be an asshole to be Dauntless.”  
  “Really? What gave you that impression?”  
“Just be quiet, Eric. We’re done here.” I get up from my seat, taking my tray with me.  


“Coward!” My movements halt.   
I turn back to him, “What did you call me?”   
He gives a half shrug, “I called you a coward, _coward_!”   
“No, Eric.” I give him an easy smile and take slow measured steps toward him. “Just because you’re having a shit day, doesn’t mean you can take it out on the first person you see. A coward is someone lacking the courage to do the things they want to do. So, what do you want to do that you don’t have the courage for? Because I know what I want to do.” I smirk.  
 His nostrils flare, his eyes harden and it feels like the room just got thirty degrees colder. There is absolute silence. We’re forehead to chin, I’m short.  
 “How dare you! You’re a pathetic little girl from Abnegation.”   
 “Yes, I’m a pathetic little Abnegation girl that kicked your ass.” The Erudite in him can’t argue with the fact. “Let’s talk about you though; you have no courage, you are a heartless, cold, brutal, ruthless asshole.” He grabs my hair at the hair tie, lowers himself so that he can look straight into my eyes. I can see the regret, the apologies and I brace myself for the hit I know is coming.  


My cheek stings and I feel the fire behind my eyes. Just because I am prepared for the hit, doesn’t mean it wasn’t surprising but I will not cry! I stand looking at the floor blinking the tears from my eyes. My hair makes a curtain between me and the Dauntless. He pulled the hair tie, that sneaky bastard. I hear gasps and shouts. I raise my head slowly to meet his eyes again and smirk, “Is that all you’ve got? Now,” I hold up a finger, “before you answer, remember that I can and will incapacitate you in mere seconds so think before you act!” I raise an eyebrow. He stares at me before raising his hand again. I grab his shirt with both hands, jump up and head butt his nose. His stitches burst and I want to go to him but I can’t.  
  
 “I’ll pick my stuff up later!” I turn away and swiftly make my exit.

 

Nine in the evening, everything has calmed down, I’ve had time to think and people aren’t trying to kill Eric with their eyes, I make my way to his apartment to gather my things. I am nervous, excited and fearful. What if we went too far and there’s no coming back from that? What if I went too far and he doesn’t speak to me again? What if he’s afraid to talk to me because he thinks he went too far? What if the Dauntless do try to kill him? What if I become factionless and can’t help where it’s needed? There are so many ‘what if’s’ that I can’t even begin to count. I knew from the beginning that this would be hard. I grew up sparring with the guy and we had an easy-going friendship.  
  
I’m so far into my thoughts that I don’t hear the door opening or closing. I’m sitting on my bed, staring off into space, thinking about the possible outcomes of every scenario or situation.

What snaps me back to reality is the movement from someone sitting beside me.  
 “Hey,” Eric puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side, “We’ll get through this!”  
 “What if we don’t or can’t? What if something happens to one of us and the others can’t do anything about it?” I wrap my arms around his waist and shake my head, “Think of every situation, every scenario and how many ways this whole thing could go wrong. There are hundreds, thousands of possibilities and we can’t even see half of them.”

“You know what will happen? We’ll be alright. Everything will be alright as soon as we’ve done what needs to be done. I’ll make sure that if you’re captured by Erudite that I have some leeway and you make sure you’ve got Max and I covered from your end. Once initiation’s done, Erudite’s plans will come into play and then we take them down Dauntless-style!” He kisses my hair, “Just trust in yourself, your team and me. Now, we’ve gotta get you packed up and moved back into the dorms. Take this.”   
He hands me a small sheathed knife.   
I remove the sheath and examine the blade.  
The word ‘Sweets’ is carved into one side running along the blunt edge. Carved on the other side are the words ‘Be brave.’   
  
“I can’t take this.” I replace the sheath and hand it back.  
 “Tris, I need you to take it because I can’t bodily protect you when you’re not living here.” He’s so sincere, it looks like it hurts.  
 “Fine,” I sigh. “My comms won’t be on until Stage three is done, so you won’t be able to contact me until then.”

 

 

Thirteen hours later, as far as I can tell the second stage of initiation involves sitting in a dark hallway with the other initiates, wondering what’s going to happen behind a closed door. Uriah sits across from me, with Marlene on his left and Lynn on his right. The Dauntless-born initiates and the transfers were separated during stage one, but we will be training together from now on. That’s what Four told us before he disappeared behind the door.  
 “So,” says Lynn, scuffing the floor with her shoe. “Which one of you is ranked first, huh?”  
 Her question is met with silence at first, and then Christina clears her throat.  
 “Tris,” she says.  
 “Bet I could take you.” She says it casually, turning the ring in her eyebrow with her fingertips. “I’m second, but I bet any of us could take you, transfer.”  
I laugh and the others, including some of the Dauntless-born join in. Typical Dauntless and their challenges. When the laughing stops, I say, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, if I were you. Who’s first on your end?”  
 “Uriah,” she says. “And I am sure. You know how many years we’ve spent preparing for this?”  
If she intends to intimidate us, it works on everyone but me.   
 “Can you take down Eric or Max?” I question, “Or how about Uriah? Can you take him down too? Because if you can, you’ll give me a challenge.” I grin, but before she can respond Four opens the door and calls on her. She walks down the hallway, the blue light at the end making her bare head glow.  
 “So you’re first,” Will says to Uriah.  
Uriah shrugs. “Yeah. And?”  
 “And don’t you think it’s a little unfair that you’ve spent your entire life getting ready for this, and we’re expected to learn it all in a few weeks?” Will says, his eyes narrowing.  
 “Not really. Stage one was about skill, sure, but no one can prepare for stage two,” he says. “At least, so I’m told.”  
No one responds to that. We sit in silence for twenty minutes. I count each minute on my watch. Then the door opens again and Four calls another name.  
 “Peter,” he says.

Each minute wears into me like a scrape of sandpaper. Gradually, our numbers begin to dwindle, and it’s just me, Uriah and Drew. Drew’s leg bounces, Uriah’s fingers tap against his knee and I try to sit perfectly still. I hear only muttering from the room at the end of the hallway and I suspect this is another part of the game they like to play with us. Terrifying us at every opportunity.  
The door opens and Four beckons to me, “Come on, Tris.”  
I stand, my back sore from leaning against the wall for so long and walk past the other initiates. Drew attempts to trip me up but I kick the side of his knee joint.

 Four touches my shoulder to guide me into the room and closes the door behind me.  
When I see what’s inside, I recoil immediately, my shoulders hitting his chest.  
 In the room is a reclining metal chair, similar to the one I sat in during the aptitude test. Beside it is a familiar machine. This room has no mirrors and barely any light. There is a computer screen on a desk in the corner.  
 “Sit,” Four says. He squeezes my arms and attempts to push me forward but my feet are rooted.  
 “What’s the simulation?” I ask, as strongly as I can, which turns out to be quite weak.  
 “Ever hear the phrase ‘face your fears’?” he says. “We’re talking literally. The simulation will teach you to control your emotions in the midst of a frightening situation.”  
I touch a wavering hand to my forehead. Simulations aren’t real; they pose no real threat to me, so logically, I shouldn’t be afraid of them, but my reaction is visceral. It takes everything I have for me to steer myself toward the chair and sit down in it, pressing my skull into the headrest.  
 “Do you ever administer aptitude tests?” I say. He seems qualified.  
 “No,” he replies. “I avoid Stiffs as much as possible.”  
I don’t know why someone would avoid the Abnegation. The Dauntless or the Candor, maybe, because bravery and honesty make people do strange or stupid things, but the Abnegation?  
 “Why?”  
 “Do you really think I’d answer?”  
 “No, but why do you say vague things if you don’t want to be asked about them?”  
His fingers brush my neck and my body tenses in preparation for pretty much anything. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and makes sure it’s not going to get in the way. He taps something and I tilt my head back to see what it is. Four holds a syringe with a long needle in one hand, his thumb against the plunger. The liquid is tinted orange.  
 “An injection? You know that if you force that upon me, I’ll break your arm? I’d rather do it myself.”  
 “We use a more advanced version of the simulation here,” he says, “a different serum, no wires or electrodes for you.”  
 “How does it work without wires?”  
 “Well, _I_ have wires so I can see what’s going on,” he says. “But for you, there’s a tiny transmitter in the serum that sends data to the computer.”  
He hands me the syringe and points to spot on my throat. I ease the tip of the needle into the tender skin and a deep ache spreads. I wince and try to focus on his calm face as he takes the syringe and says, “The serum will go into effect in sixty seconds. This simulation is different from the aptitude test. In addition to containing the transmitter, the serum simulates the amygdala, which is the part of the brain involved in processing negative emotions –like fear- and then induces a hallucination. The brain’s electrical activity is then transmitted to our computer, which translates your hallucination into a simulated image that I can see and monitor. I will then forward the recording to Dauntless administrators. You stay in the hallucination until you calm down –that is, lower your heart rate and control your breathing.”

I try to follow his words but my thoughts are going haywire. I feel the trademark symptoms of fear; sweaty palms, racing heart, tightness in my chest, dry mouth, a lump in my throat and difficulty breathing. He plants his hands on either side of my head and leans over me.  
“Be brave, Tris,” he whispers. “The first time is always the hardest.”  
His eyes are the last thing I see.

I stand in a field of dry grass that comes up to my waist. The air smells like smoke and burns my nostrils. Above me, the sky is bile-coloured and the sight of it fills me with anxiety, my body cringing away from it.  
I hear fluttering, like the pages of a book blown by the wind, but there is no wind. The air is still and soundless apart from the flapping neither hot nor cold –not like air at all, but I can still breathe.  
 A shadow swoops overhead.  
Something lands on my shoulder. I feel its weight and the prick of talons and fling my arm forward to shake it off, my hand batting at it. I feel something smooth and fragile. A feather. I bite my lip and look to the side. A black bird the size of my forearm turns its head and focuses one beady eye on me.  
I grit my teeth and hold it steady with the arm it’s clutching. It digs its talons in and doesn’t budge. I cry out, more frustrated than pained and wrap my hand around its neck giving a sharp twist. Thunder rumbles and I hear the patter of rain on the ground but no rain falls. I dig my fingers under the talons and pry them open, gasping sharply because of the pain.  
 The sky darkens, like a cloud is passing over the sun. Still prying the bird off my shoulder, I look up. A flock of crows storms toward me, an advancing army of outstretched talons and open beaks, each one squawking, filling the air with noise. In a single mass, hundreds of beady eyes shining, they dive, descending toward the earth.   
 I try to run, but my feet are firmly planted and refuse to move. I lift my arms up and my breathing becomes shallow as they surround me, feathers flapping in my ears, beaks pecking at my shoulders, talons clinging to my clothes. I try to fight them off, but it is futile. There are too many and I am alone. They nip at my fingertips and press against my body, wings sliding across the back of my neck, feet tearing at my hair.   
 I twist and wrench and fall to the ground, covering my head with my arms. They scream against me. I feel a wiggling in the grass, a crow forcing its way under my arm. I open my eyes and it pecks at my face, its beak hitting me in the nose. Blood drips onto the grass and I decide I’ve had enough. I break neck after neck and they keep coming, more birds wedging themselves under my arms, claws trying for anything they can grasp.  
I take in as much air as I can through my nose and let out a blood curdling scream.  
 The crows flap harder, a roar in my ears. My body burns and they are everywhere, I can’t think, I can’t breathe. I gasp for air and my mouth fills with feather, feathers down my throat, in my lungs, replacing my blood with dead weight.  
 I feel like I’m dying.  
My skin sears and I am bleeding, the squawking is so loud my ears are ringing, but I am not dying. I remember that it isn’t real, but it feels real, it feels so real. _Be brave_. Four’s voice screams in my memory. _Think Dauntless_. Max scolds me. _Trust in yourself_. Eric encourages.  
I cry out, extremely pissed off, inhaling feathers and exhaling. There will be no help; I am alone and I must trust in myself!  
_You stay in the hallucination until you can calm down,_ Four’s voice continues. I cough and another crow has wriggled under my arms. I feel the edge of its sharp beak against my mouth. Its beak wedges past my lips and scrapes my teeth. The crow pushes its head into my mouth and I bite hard, tasting something foul. I spit and clench my teeth to form a barrier, but now a fourth crow is pushing at my feet and a fifth is pecking at my ribs.   
  _Calm down._ I can’t, but I can try. My head throbs.  
_Breathe._ I keep my mouth closed and suck in air through my nose. I make a point of rolling over, hopefully crushing the crow. It has been hours since I was alone in the field; it has been days. I push air out of my nose. My heart is still pounding and I need to slow it down. I breathe again, taking in as much as I can and holding it for a few seconds before letting it out again.  
 I force myself onto my front, stretching out on the grass, which prickles against my skin. I extend my arms and breathe. Crows push and prod at my sides, worming their way beneath me and I let them. I let the flapping of wings and the squawking and the pecking and the prodding continue, relaxing one muscle at a time. I think of the feeling of the grass on the side of my face, resigning myself to becoming a pecked carcass.  
The pain overwhelms me.  
I open my eyes and I am sitting in the metal chair.  
 I shiver and slap at my arms and head and legs to make the feeling disappear. I can still feel the feathers brushing the back of my neck and the talons in my shoulder and my burning skin. I pull my knees up to my chest, burying my face in them.  
 A hand touches my shoulder and I throw out a combination of punches. It doesn’t register that I’ve just attacked Four because the feeling of feathers is still there.  
 “Hey! Hey, it’s over,” Four says. “No need for almost killing me.”  
 “You’ve seen what I can do and yet, when I came out of that, you think it’s a good idea to touch me.” I shake my head, running my palms along my arms, still brushing off feathers, though I know there aren’t any. I rock back and forth in the metal chair.  
 “Tris, I’m going to take you back to the dorms, okay?”  
 “No!” I snap. I lift my head and glare at him. “They can’t see me, not like this!”  
 “Oh, calm down,” he says. He rolls his eyes. “I’ll take you out the back door.”  
I shake my head. My body is trembling and I feel so weak I’m not sure I can stand, but I have to. I won’t be one of the initiates that must to be carried back to the dorms.  
 “I don’t need you to, I can do it myself.” I take a steadying breath, unfold myself and stand, shakily. I take another breath, deeper this time and shake out my arms and legs.  
 “Nonsense.” He attempts grabbing my arm but I dodge and make my way to the door. He walks to the other door that’s behind the computer screen. When we’re a few hundred yards away from the room, I stop.  
 “Why are the leaders allowing this?” I ask. “What is the point of that? I wasn’t aware that when I chose Dauntless, I was signing up for weeks of torture!”  
 “Did you think overcoming cowardice would be easy?” he says calmly.  
 “That is overcoming cowardice? Could’ve fooled me. Cowardice is how you decide to be in real life and in real life, I am not being pecked to death my crows!” I press the heels of my hands into my eyes.  
He doesn’t say anything.   
 “I want to go home!”  
But home is not an option anymore. My choices are here or the factionless slums and I cannot be factionless.  
 He doesn’t look at me with sympathy. He just looks at me. His eyes look black in the dim corridor and his mouth is set in a hard line.  
 “Learning how to think in the midst of fear,” he says, “is a lesson that everyone, even your Stiff family, needs to learn. That’s what we’re trying to teach you. If you can’t learn it, you’ll need to get the hell out of here, because we won’t want you.”  
 “I’ve been learning that since the day a factionless man attacked me at the age of five,” I growl. “But I’m failing this part of initiation!”  
He sighs. “How long do you think you spent in that hallucination, Tris?”  
 “I don’t know.” I shake my head. “A half hour? Forty-five minutes?”  
 “Three minutes,” he replies. “You got out three times faster than the other initiates. Whatever you are, you’re not a failure.”  
Three minutes?  
He smiles a little. “Tomorrow you’ll be better at this. You’ll see.”  
 “Tomorrow?”

He touches my back and guides me towards the dormitory. I feel his fingertips through my shirt. Their gentle pressure makes me forget the birds for a moment.  
 “What was your first hallucination?” I ask, glancing at him.  
 “It wasn’t a ‘what,’ so much as a ‘who,’” he shrugs. “It’s not important.”  
 “And are you over that fear now?”  
 “Not yet.” We reach the door to the dorm and he leans against the wall sliding his hands into his pockets. “I may never be.”  
 “So they don’t go away?”  
 “Sometimes they do. And sometimes new fears replace them.” His thumbs hook around his belt hoops. “But becoming fearless isn’t the point. That’s impossible. It’s learning how to control your fear and how to be free from it, _that’s_ the point.”

 I nod. I used to think the Dauntless were fearless. That is how they seemed anyway. But maybe what I saw as fearless was actually fear under control.  
 “Anyway, your fears are rarely what they appear to be in the simulation,” he adds.  
 “What do you mean?”  
 “Well, are you really afraid of crows?” he says, half smiling at me. The expression warms his eyes enough to see that he’s not always ‘Four the instructor.’ He’s just a boy, talking casually, walking me to my door. “When you see one, do you run away screaming?”  
 “No, I guess not.” I step closer and lean against the wall, tilting my head sideways to look at him. “So, what am I really afraid of?” I say.  
 “I don’t know,” he says. “Only you can know.”  
I nod slowly. There are a dozen things it could be, but I’m not sure which one is right, or if there’s even one right one.  
 “I didn’t know becoming Dauntless would be this difficult,” I say, and a second later I am surprised that I said it; surprised that I admitted to it. “I knew the physical training would be there and that was easy but this, this trumps everything I’ve been through.” Was it a mistake to tell him that?  
 “It wasn’t always like this, I’m told,” he says, lifting a shoulder. My admission doesn’t appear to bother him. “Being Dauntless, I mean.”  
 “What changed?”  
 “The leadership,” he says. “The person who controls training sets the standard of Dauntless behaviour. Six years ago, Max and the other leaders changed the training methods to make them more competitive and more brutal, said it was supposed to test people’s strength. And that changed the priorities of Dauntless as a whole. Bet you can’t guess who the leaders’ new protégé is.”  
 The answer is obvious: Eric. Four thinks they trained him to be vicious and he thinks that Eric’s training the rest of us to be vicious too. He doesn’t know that Eric’s been helping keep Divergents safe. He doesn’t know the lengths that Eric goes to, to get people out of the city to safety.   
 I look at Four.  
“Are you sure you know who you’re talking about? I mean, one hundred and ten percent positive that that’s what’s happening? If you were ranked first in your initiate class,” I say, “what was Eric’s rank?”  
 “Second.” This keeps getting better and better. Eric must have learned how to hide how much training he’d actually had in the hopes of being able to help more Divergents with more time on his hands. But Four had to go and turn down the leadership position, leaving Eric with next to no time.  
 “So, you were their first choice for leadership and he was their second,” I nod slowly.  
 “What makes you say that?”  
 “The way he was acting at dinner the first night. Jealous, annoyed, I’d even go as far as saying he was pissed!”  
Four doesn’t contradict me, so he must think that Eric wanted the leadership position. I want to ask why he didn’t take the leadership position; why he is so resistant to it when he seems to be a natural leader. But I know how Four feels about personal question.  
 I smooth down my hair and ask, “Do I look any worse than I did after the simulation?”  
“Hmm.” He draws his eyes over my face and hair, like he’s inspecting me. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.   
 “No, Tris,” he says. A more serious look replaces his smile as he adds, “You look tough as nails!”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.
> 
> I have had the longest day ever.  
> And so, here’s Ch.12.  
> I will post the other 3, possibly 4 chapters at some point tomorrow.  
> But right now, my feet are aching, my back hurts and I’m unwell.  
> But on the upside, my house is nice and clean for the most part.

 When I walk in, most of the other initiates –Dauntless-born and transfer alike –are crowded between the rows of bunk beds with Peter at their centre. He holds a Dauntless computer in one hand.  
 “ _The mass exodus of the children of Abnegation leaders cannot be ignored or attributed to coincidence_ ,” he reads. “ _The recent transfer of Beatrice and Caleb Prior, the children of Andrew Prior, calls into question the soundness of Abnegation’s values and teaching.”  
_  Cold creeps up my spine. Christina, standing on the edge of the crowd, looks over her shoulder and spots me. She gives me a worried look. I can’t move. My father. Now the Erudite are attacking my father.  
 “ _Why else would the children of such an important man decide that the lifestyle he has set out for them is not an admirable one?_ ” Peter continues. _“Molly Atwood, a fellow Dauntless transfer, suggests a disturbed and abusive upbringing might be to blame. ‘I heard her talking in her sleep once,’ Molly says. ‘She was telling her father to stop doing something. I don’t know what it was, but it gave her nightmare.’”  
 _ So this is Molly’s revenge for beating her half to death. She must have talked to the Erudite reporter that Christina yelled at.   
 “What?” I demand. Or I try to demand, but my voice comes out strangled and scratchy and I have to clear my throat to say it again. “ _What?”  
_  Peter stops reading and a few people turn around. Some, like Christina, look at me in a pitying way, their eyebrows drawn in, their mouths turned down at the corners. But most give me little smirks and eye one another suggestively. Peter turns last, with a wide smile.  
 “Give me that,” I say, holding out my hand. My face burn with anger.  
 “But I’m not done reading,” he replies, laughter in his voice. His eyes scan the screen again.  
 “ _However, perhaps the answer lies not in a morally bereft man, but in the corrupted ideals of an entire faction. Perhaps the answer in that we have entrusted our city to a group of proselytizing tyrants who do not know how to lead us out of poverty and into prosperity.”_

  
 I slowly walk toward him, “You remember when you stole my towel, Peter? Do you want to know how much worse it’s going to be for you because of this? Or does no one remember me kicking Eric ass and then taking on five initiates one after the other. The last fight was with you, Peter, and I nearly killed you. Give me the fucking computer or I will make sure you will never walk, much less talk again.” The room is silent; my voice is a menacing whisper. “That’s my _father_!” My voice is getting louder, “My father. Molly is a coward, it’s why she didn’t get this far. You, Peter, are a coward because you think it’s okay to prey on what you see as weak.” I grin, manically, “But what do you think happens when predator turns prey?” Someone grabs me around the waist, my head snaps back catching their face. Someone else grabs my left arm and my right fist makes contact with skin. I keep eye contact with Peter, seeing his glee turn to straight up fear.

 I am still stalking towards him when Eric and Max step in front of me. Both have their arms folded across their chests.  
 “Get out of my way!” They shake their heads. I block everything but Eric, Max and Peter out.   
 “Get. Out. Of. My. Way!” They shake their heads, again and ready themselves for a fight.   
 “You need to calm down, Tris,” Max says softly.  
  I laugh coldly, and that surprises them. “Calm down? Calm _down_? That’s my _family_ they’re talking about! It doesn’t matter what faction they’re in, they’re still family. What do we have if we don’t have family? And don’t you dare say the factions because I will aim to hurt you if you do. Abnegation are selfless people and won’t protect themselves so when the attack on Abnegation comes, and I know it’s coming, I will protect my family with my life if I have to, because that’s what the Dauntless manifesto says we do. If anyone has a fucking problem with that, then it’s your fucking problem.” I look between Eric and Max, “Be thankful that I didn’t kill you both to get to him, because if he steps one foot out of line again, he’s done. This is his last chance and then I’m done being nice, and no one will stand in my way, for long.”  
 I look around the room to see the other initiates backed up against the walls, practically plastering themselves to them. I didn’t realise I was that scary but hey, can’t have everything you want.  
 Max and Eric try to steer me toward the door but I shrug them off and glare at them. I’m still pissed beyond measure, “If you think a few soft words and a hug are going to help with my temper in this situation then you are very mistaken, _Uncle_ Max. Keep your damn hands to yourself and don’t speak to me, I hate you both!” I stride from the room with my head held high.  
  
There’s an hour until dinner time and I’ve just come from the training room. Someone must have spread the word because it took three and a half hours to calm down and not one person bothered me. I head to the dorms to shower and change. My knuckles are bloody and cracked but I don’t feel any pain. As soon as I’m in the corridor that leads to the dorm, the anger is back but it’s not as controlling as earlier. Pushing the door open, I see that Christina, Will and Al are the only people there.  
 “Hey guys,” I say tightly.  
 “You calmed down enough yet?” I nod.  
 “Good, because once you’re showered and ready, we’re going shopping!”

I stand in the shower for a while, letting my muscles relax. I didn’t know how tense I was. Nice and relaxed, I step out and dry myself off. I find a pile of clean clothes next to my shower stall, must have been Christina. Once clothed, I go to our bed space and Christina pulls out a hair dryer. She dries and curls my hair, pinning it up so that a ringlet falls on either side of my face. The rest of my hair rests between my shoulder blades in loose curls. I apply some eyeliner and a little mascara and we’re good to go.  


Leaving the room, Christina jumps on Al’s back for a piggyback ride. She shrieks as he charges down the corridor. Will walks with me.  
 “I’m sorry about the things Erudite are saying about your family.” There are dark circles under his eyes; he looks exhausted. “They’re arrogant and dull, but I’m betting the reporters are being coached.”  
 “Oh, I know they’re being coached and I know for a fact that the Erudite plan on overthrowing the Abnegation.” I am completely honest.  
 “No, they aren’t revolutionaries. They just want more say, that’s all and they resent the Abnegation for refusing to listen to them.” He doesn’t look like he believes everything he’s saying.  
 “Will, look me in the eyes and tell me that you believe Erudite cannot and will not attempt to overthrow Abnegation.” I watch him closely. “With all the worded attacks on Abnegation from Erudite, tell me it’s not a possibility and I still won’t believe you. I can’t believe my brother joined them!”  
 “Hey. They’re not all bad,” he says sharply.  
I nod, but I don’t believe him. I can’t imagine anyone emerging from the Erudite and coming out unscathed, though Will seems alright.  


 We catch up to Al still giving Christina a piggyback ride.  
 “So, what were your first fears?” Al asks.  
 “Too many crows,” I say.  
 “Moths.” Christina is afraid of moths?  
 “Too much acid,” Will says. “What about you, Al?”  
 “Failing initiation.”  
 Al almost drops Christina and she slaps her hands around the first thing she can grab, which happens to be his face. He cringes and adjusts his grip on her legs. At a glance, Al seems happy, but there is something heavy about his smiles. I am worried about him.

 I see Four standing by the chasm, a group of people around him. He laughs so hard he has to grab the railing for balance. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the brightness of his face, he’s intoxicated, or on his way there. I had begun to think of Four as rigid, like a soldier but then I remember that’s he’s also eighteen.  
 My eyes scan the rest of the area. Eric stands amongst a group of his friends or acquaintances. Al stops walking and Christina slides to the ground. Max is nowhere in sight. I see some of the Dauntless-born initiates and I see a couple of familiar faces.   
 Will rushes at Christina and Al does the same to me, they throw us over their shoulders and we scream.  
 “Come on, little ladies,” Will says.  
 “We’re taking you to dinner!” Al finishes.  
I rest my elbows on Al’s back and watch as everyone in the massive space turns to us.  
 “What? You never saw a guy throw a girl over his shoulder to take her to dinner before?” I shout. I look at Four and he looks amused. Eric looks pissed and Max has just stepped onto the floor, but I am happy.

 At home I used to spend calm, pleasant nights with my family. My mother knit scarves for the neighbourhood kids. My father helped Caleb with his homework. There was a fire in the fireplace and peace in my heart, as I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing and everything was quiet. Peace is restrained, but Dauntless is free!

 

 

 

I breathe through my nose. In, out, in.  
 “It’s just a simulation, Tris,” Four says quietly.  
 He’s wrong. The last simulation bled into my life, waking and sleeping. Nightmares, not just featuring the crows but the feelings I had in the simulation –terror and helplessness, which I suspect is what I’m really afraid of. Sudden fits of terror in the shower, at breakfast, on the way here. Nails bitten down so far my nails beds ache. And I am not the only one who feels this way; I can tell.  
 Still I nod and close my eyes.

 

I am in darkness. The last thing I remember is the metal chair and the needle in my arm. This time there is no field; there are no crows. My heart pounds in anticipation. What monsters will creep from the darkness and steal my rationality? How long will I have to wait for them?  
 A blue orb lights up a few feet ahead of me, and then another one, filling the room with light. I am on the Pit floor, next to the chasm and the initiates stand around me, their arms folded and their faces blank. I search for Christina and find her standing among them. None of them move and their stillness makes my throat feel tight.  
 I see something in front of me –my own reflection. I touch it and my fingers find glass, cool and smooth. I look up. There is a pane above me; I am in a glass box. I press above my head to see if I can force the box open. It doesn’t budge. I am sealed in.  
My heart beats fasters. I don’t want to be trapped. Someone taps on the wall in front of me. Eric. He points at my feet, smirking.  
 A few seconds ago, my feet were dry, but now I stand in half an inch of water and my socks are soggy. I crouch to see where the water is coming from, but it seems to be coming from nowhere, rising up from under the grate I’m standing on. I look up at Eric and he shrugs. He joins the crowd of initiates.  
 “So that’s how it’s going to be, you evil bastard!” The water rises fast. It now covers my ankles. I pound against the glass with an open palm.  
 “Let me out of here!”  
The water slides up my bare calves as it rises, cool and soft. I hit the glass harder.  
 “Get me the fuck out of here!”  
 I stare at Christina. She leans over to Peter, who stands beside her, and whispers something in his ear. They both laugh and that raises my temper.  
 The water covers my thighs. I pound both fists against the glass. I’m not trying to get their attention anymore; I’m trying to break out. Frantic, I bang against the glass as hard as I can. I throw my shoulder against it, once, twice, three times. I hit the wall until my shoulder aches, watching the water rise to my waist, ribcage then my chest.  
 I see Will standing among the initiates and something tickles at the back of my mind. Something he said. _Come on, think_. I stop trying to break the glass and try to take a couple of deep breaths but it’s hard. I’ll need as much air as I can get in a few seconds.  
 My body rises, weightless in the water. I float closer to the ceiling and tilt my head back as the water covers my chin. Gasping, I press my face to the glass above me, sucking in as much air as I can.   
Then the water covers me, sealing me into the box.   
  _Don’t panic_. It’s no use –my heart pounds and my thoughts scatter. _The simulation is all in your head_.  
 I scream and water fills my mouth. If it’s in my head, I can control it. The water burns my eyes. The initiates’ passive faces stare back at me. They don’t care.  
 I scream again and shove the wall with my palm. I hear something. A cracking sound. When I pull my hand away, there is a line in the glass. I slam my other hand next to the first and drive another crack through the glass, this one spreading outward from my palm in long, crooked fingers. My chest burns like I just swallowed fire. I kick the wall. My toes ache from the impact and I hear a long, low groan.  
 The pane shatters and the force of the water against my back throws me forward. There is air again.  
I gasp and sit up. I’m in the chair. I gulp and shake out my hands. Four stands to my right, but instead of helping me up, he just looks at me.  
 “What?” I ask.   
“How did you do that?”  
 “Do what?”  
“Crack the glass.”  
 “I don’t know.” Four finally offers me his hand. I swing my legs over the side of the chair and when I stand, I feel steady. Calm.  
 He sighs and grabs me by the elbow, half leading and half dragging me out of the room. We walk quickly down the hallway and then I stop, pulling my arm back. He stares at me in silence. He won’t give me information without prompting.  
 “What?” I demand.  
 “You’re Divergent,” he replies.  
I stare at him, fear pulsing through me like electricity. He knows. How does he know? I must have slipped up. Said something wrong. He can’t know about anything else though. I can’t tell him anything, yet.  
 “I suspected it last time, but this time it’s obvious. You manipulated the simulation; you’re Divergent. I’ll delete the footage, but unless you want to wind up dead at the bottom of the chasm, you’ll figure out how to hide it during the simulations! Now, if you’ll excuse me.”  
 I grab his shoulder before he can take another step.  
 “Funny thing there, Four. I won’t end up dead at the bottom of the chasm.” The honesty on my face and in my voice surprises him but he doesn’t say anything else.  
 He walks back to the simulation room and slams the door behind him. I feel my heartbeat in my throat. I manipulated the simulation; I broke the glass. I didn’t know that was an act of Divergence.  
 How did he?  
 I start down the hallway. I need answers and I know who has them.

 

I walk straight to the tattoo parlour where I last saw Tori.  
 There aren’t many people out because its mid-afternoon and most of them are at work or school. There are three people in the tattoo place: the other tattoo artist, who is drawing a lion on another man’s arm, and Tori, who is sorting through a stack of paper on the counter. She looks up when I walk in.  
 “Hello, Tris,” she says. She glances at the other tattoo artist, who is too focused on what he’s doing to notice us. “Let’s go in the back.”  
 I follow her behind the curtain that separates the two rooms. The next room contains a few chairs, spare tattoo needles, ink, pads of paper and framed artwork. Tori draws the curtain shut and sits in one of the chairs. I sit across from her, tapping my feet to give me something to do.  
 “What’s going on?” she says. “How are the simulations going?”  
 “Really well.” I nod a few times. “A little too well, I hear but we knew that was going to happen.”  
 “Ah.”  
 “Please help me understand,” I say quietly. “What the hell am I? What do the simulations have to do with it?”  
 Tori’s demeanour changes. She leans back and crosses her arms. Her expression becomes guarded.  
 “Among other things, you...you are someone who is aware of when they are in a simulation. You know that what you’re experiencing isn’t real,” she says. “Someone who can manipulate the simulation or even shut it down. And also...” She leans forward and looks into my eyes. “Someone who, because you are Dauntless...tends to die.”  
 Tension builds in me until I can’t stand it anymore. Anger at the fact that people don’t see what’s been going on right in front of them, and by their leaders at that!  
 “So, what you’re saying is that just because I’m Dauntless and...that, I’m going to die?”  
 “Not necessarily,” she says. “The Dauntless leaders don’t know about you yet. I deleted your aptitude results from the system immediately and manually logged your result as Abnegation. But make no mistake –if they find out, they _will_ kill you.”  
 I stare at her in silence. She doesn’t look crazy. She sounds steady, if a little urgent and I’ve never suspected her of being unbalanced but she must be. There hasn’t been a murder in our city as long as I’ve been alive. Even if individuals are capable of it, the leader of a faction, this faction, wouldn’t. I know that at least two of the leaders are helping Divergents escape the city.  
 “The leaders of Dauntless wouldn’t kill me. I know they wouldn’t. That’s the whole point of the faction system.”  
 “Oh, you think so?” She plants her hands on her knees and stares right at me, her features taut with sudden ferocity. “They got my brother, why not you, huh? What makes you so special?”  
 “Your brother?” I say, narrowing my eyes.  
 “Yeah. My brother. He and I both transferred from Erudite, only his aptitude test was inconclusive. On the last day of simulations, they found his body in the chasm. Said it was suicide. Only my brother was doing well in training, he was dating another initiate, he was _happy_.” She shakes her head. “You have a brother, right? Don’t you think you would know if he was suicidal?”  
 I try to imagine Caleb killing himself. Even the thought sounds ridiculous to me. Even if Caleb were miserable, it would not be an option.  
 Her sleeves are rolled up, so I can see a tattoo of a river on her right arm. Did she get it after her brother supposedly died? Was the river another fear she overcame?  
 She lowers her voice. “In the second stage of training, Georgie got really good, really fast. He said the simulations weren’t even scary to him...they were like a game. So the instructors took a special interest in him. Piled into the room when he went under, instead of just letting the instructor report his results. Whispered about him all the time. The last day of simulations, one of the Dauntless leaders came in to see it himself. And the next day, Georgie was gone.”  
 “How many people know about this?” I say, thinking of Four. “About manipulating the simulations?”  
 “Two kinds of people,” she says. “People who want you dead. Or people who have experienced it themselves. Firsthand. Or secondhand, like me.”

 “I disagree! There are three kinds of people that know about it. Have you ever heard of the Reapers?” I ask.  
 “I’ve heard whispers but no one knows anything for certain.”  
 “What if I told you that there’s a chance that your brother is alive because of the Reapers?” I raise an eyebrow and smirk. That grabs her attention.  
 “How would you know?” she asks, desperately.  
 I laugh a little, “Let’s just say that the Reapers are definitely real and they’ve been trafficking Divergents out of the city for years! I can’t tell you any more than that.” Her eyes go comically wide and her mouth opens and closes with no sound for a while. “I’d better let you get back to work before your colleague notices. I’ll see you later.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.  
> I did not enjoy writing this chapter.  
> Nor did I enjoy editing.  
> I’m ill lol but that’s no excuse.

 The door to the Pit closes behind me and I am alone. I have not walked this tunnel since the day of my first Reaper assignment. I remember how I walked it after the Choosing Ceremony, my footsteps unsteady, searching for light. I walk surefooted now. I don’t need light anymore.  
 It has been three days since I spoke to Tori. Since then, the Erudite have released two articles about Abnegation. The first accuses Abnegation of withholding luxuries like cars and fresh fruit from other factions in order to force their beliefs in selflessness on everyone else. When I read it, I thought of Will’s sister, Cara, accusing my mother of hoarding goods.  
 The second article discusses the failings of choosing government officials based on their faction, asking why only people who define themselves as selfless should be in government. It promotes a return to the democratically elected political systems of the past. It makes a lot of sense, which makes me suspect it is a call for war wrapped in the clothing of rationality.  
 I reach the end of the tunnel. The net stretches across the gaping hole, just as it did when I first saw it. I climb the stairs to the wooden platform where Four pulled me to solid ground and grab the bar that the net is attached to. I would not have been able to lift my body up with just my arms when I first got here, I’d probably have gotten halfway up before tiring, but now I do it almost without thinking and roll into the centre of the net.  
 Above me are the empty buildings that stand at the edge of the hole and the sky. It is dark blue and starless. There is no moon tonight.

 The articles troubled me, but I had friends to cheer me up and that’s something. When the first one was released, Christina charmed one of the cooks in the Dauntless kitchens and he let us try some cake batter. After the second, Uriah and Marlene taught me a card game and we played for two hours in the dining hall.  
 Tonight, though, I want to be alone. More than that, I want to remember why I came here and why I’m so determined to stay here that I would jump off a building and put my life in certain danger for it, even before I got my memories back. I work my fingers through the holes in the net beneath me.  
 I wanted to be like the Dauntless I saw at school. I wanted to be loud and daring and free like them. But I also wanted to help people, stand up for them, be their protection when they couldn’t protect themselves. This has always been in the plans for my future; it has been set up since I could walk.  
 In the past three days, I have faced three fears. In one, I was drowning again, this time in the middle of an ocean as the water raged around me. In the second, I watched as my family slowly bled to death. And in the third, I was held at gun point and forced to choose between shooting my Dauntless friends and shooting my family. I know what fear is now.  
 Wind rushes over the lip of the hole and washes over me and I close my eyes. In my mind I stand at the edge of the roof again. I undo the buttons of my gray Abnegation jacket, exposing my arms and then I’m taking off my dress, showing them that I’m not as stiff as they think.  
 I open my eyes. No, I was wrong; I didn’t jump off the roof because I wanted to be like the Dauntless. I jumped off because I was already like them and I wanted to show it. I wanted to acknowledge a part of myself that Abnegation forced me to hide.  
 I stretch my hands over my head and hook them in the net again. I reach as far as I can with my toes, taking up as much of the net as possible. The night sky is empty and silent, and for the first time in three days, so is my mind.

 

 I hold my head in my hands and breathe deeply. Today the simulation was the same as yesterday. Someone held me at gunpoint and ordered me to choose between shooting my family and my friends. When I lift my head, I see that Four is watching me.  
 “I know the simulation isn’t real,” I say.  
 “You don’t have to explain it to me,” he replies. “You love your family and you love your friends. You don’t want to shoot either of them. It’s not the most unreasonable thing in the world.”  
 “The simulation is the only time I get to see my family,” I say. Even though he says I don’t, I feel like I have to explain why this fear is so difficult for me to face. I twist my fingers together and pull them apart. My nail beds are bitten raw –I have been chewing them as I sleep. I wake to bloody hands every morning. “I miss them. You ever just...miss your family?”  
 Four look down. “No,” he says eventually. “I don’t. But that’s unusual.”  
 It is unusual, so unusual it distracts me from the memory of holding a gun and pointing it between my family and friends. What was his family like that he no longer cares about them?  
  _Are you like me?_ I ask him silently. _Are you Divergent?_  
 Even thinking the questions make me feel uneasy. His eyes hold mine until I push the door open and hurry down the hallway.  
The simulations should disturb me more; they should break my mind, as they have been doing to most of the other initiates. Drew doesn’t sleep –he just stares at the wall, curled up in a ball. Al screams every night from his nightmares and cries into his pillow. My nightmares and chewed fingernails pale in comparison.  
 Al’s screams wake me every time and I stare at the spring above me and wonder what on earth is wrong with me, that I still feel strong when everyone else is breaking down. Is it being Divergent or something else that makes me steady?

 When I get back to the dormitory, I expect to find a few initiates lying on beds or staring at nothing. Instead, they stand in a group on the other end of the room. Eric is in front of them with a chalkboard in his hands, which is facing the other way, so I can’t see what’s written on it. I stand next to Will.  
 “What’s going on?” I whisper. I hope it isn’t another article, because I’m not sure I can handle any more hostility directed at me.  
 “Transfer rankings for stage two,” he says.  
 “I thought there weren’t any cuts after stage two,” I hiss.  
 “There aren’t. It’s just a progress report, sort of.”  
 I nod.  
 The sight of the board makes me feel uneasy, like something is swimming in my stomach. Eric lifts the board above his head and hangs it on the nail. When he steps aside, the room falls silent and I crane my neck to see what it says.  
 My name is in the first slot.  
 Heads turn in my direction. I follow the list down. Christina and Will are fourth and sixth, respectively. Peter is second, but when I look at the time listed by his name, I realise that the margin between us is conspicuously wide.  
 Peter’s average simulation time is eight minutes. Mine us two minutes, forty-five seconds.  
 “Nice job, Tris,” Will says quietly.  
 I nod, still staring at the board. I should be pleased that I am still ranked first, but I know what that means and by the look on Eric’s face so does he. If Peter and his friends hated me before, they will despise me now. Now, I am definitely Edward. It could be my eye next, or worse.  
 I search for Al’s name and find it in the last slot. The crowd of initiates breaks up slowly, leaving just me, Peter, Will, Al and Eric standing there. I want to console Al. To tell him that the only reason I’m doing so well is because my brain is wired differently.  
 Peter turns slowly, every limb infused with tension. A glare would have been less threatening than the look he gives me –a look of pure hatred. He walks toward his bunk, but whips round at the last second and shoves me again a wall, a hand on each of my shoulders.   
 “I will not be outranked by a Stiff, again,” he hisses, his face so close to mine I can smell his stale breath. “How did you do it, huh? How did you do it?”  
 He pulls me forward a few inches and then slams me back against the wall. I clench my teeth and narrow my eyes.  
 “You remember that promise I made the other day, Peter?” I hiss back. “I will drop you where you stand if you don’t get the fuck off me,” I take a breath and growl, “now!” Eric wraps an arm around Peter’s throat and drags him away from me.  
 “Leave her alone,” he says. “Only an idiot fucks with the little girl.”  
 “Little girl?” scoffs Peter, throwing off Eric’s arm. “Are you all blind, or just stupid? She’s going to edge you out of the rankings and out of Dauntless, and you’re going to get nothing, all because she knows how to manipulate people and you don’t. So when you realise that she’s out to ruin us all, you let me know!”  
 Peter storms out of the dormitory with his friends following, looks of disgust on their faces.  
 “Thanks,” I nod to Eric. “But don’t ever step in again!”  
 “Is he right?” Will asks quietly. “Are you trying to manipulate us?”  
 “How on earth would I do that?” I scowl at him. “I’m doing the best I can, like everyone else.”  
 He doesn’t say anything. I can tell he doesn’t believe me –not quite.  
 “Don’t be an idiot, Will,” says Christina, hopping down from her bunk. She looks at me without sympathy and adds, “She’s not acting.”  
 Christina turns and leaves without banging the door shut. Will follows. I am alone in the room with Al and Eric. The first and last initiates, and a Dauntless leader.  
 Al has never looked so small before, but he does now, with his shoulders slumped and his body collapsing in on itself like crumpled paper. He sits down on the edge of his bed.  
 I look to Eric, wink and tilt my head toward the door, silently asking him to leave.  
 “Are you okay?” I ask.  
 “Sure,” he says.  
 His face is bright red. I look away. Asking him was just formality. Anyone with eyes could see that he is not okay, at all.  
 “It’s not over,” I say. “Ranks can be improved. A wise man told me that you just have to trust in yourself. There is no strategy for stage two. It reaches deep into our hearts and tests whatever courage is there. Find the courage within yourself and you’ll get better.”  
 “It’s not that simple.”  
 “I know it’s not, it takes a little time, but a few seconds can mean so much more than hours.”  
 “All of this is easy for you.” His chin wobbles and he shakes his head.  
 “That’s not true at all. I am forced to face my family and friends with a gun at my temple and a gun in my hand. I am ordered to choose between them, but how can you choose between your blood family and the family you’ve made? You’re part of that family, Al and I know for a fact that family doesn’t give up on family, no matter what happens. You _can_ do this!”  
 “I just...” The tears that have been gathering in his eyes spill over, wetting his cheeks. “...want to be alone, but thank you, Tris.”  
 I nod and turn away from him, but change my mind. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and put my chin on his shoulder, “You’re my brother, Al. If you need anything, just let me know.” I pull back and look him in the eyes before turning away. Leaving him is not a good idea, but I can’t go against his wishes. The door clicks into place behind me and I keep walking.  
 I walk past the drinking fountain and through the tunnels that seemed endless the day I got here but now barely register in my mind. I keep walking.

 

 I somehow find the hallway I sat in the day Edward left. I don’t want to be alone but I don’t feel like I have much choice. I close my eyes and pay attention to the cold stone beneath me and breathe musty underground air.  
 “Tris!” someone calls from the end of the hallway. Uriah jogs toward me. Behind him are Lynn and Marlene. Lynn is holding a muffin.  
 “Thought I would find you here.” He crouches near my feet. “I heard you got ranked first, again.”  
 “So you just wanted to congratulate me?” I smirk. “Well, thanks.”  
 “Someone should,” he says. “And I figured your friends might not be so congratulatory since their ranks aren’t as high. So quit moping and come with us. I’m going to shoot a muffin off Marlene’s head.”  
 The idea is so ridiculous I can’t stop myself from laughing. I get up and follow Uriah to the end of the hallway where Marlene and Lynn are waiting. Lynn narrows her eyes at me, but Marlene grins.  
 “Why aren’t you out celebrating?” she asks. “You’re practically guaranteed a top ten spot if you keep it up.”  
 “She’s too Dauntless for the other transfers,” Uriah says.  
 “And too Abnegation to ‘celebrate,’” remarks Lynn.  
  I turn to Uriah, ignoring her, “Why are you shooting a muffin off Marlene’s head?”  
 “She bet me I couldn’t aim well enough to hit a small object from one hundred feet,” Uriah explains. “I bet her she didn’t have the guts to stand there as I tried. It works out well, really.”  
 The training room where I first fired a gun is not far from my hidden hallway. We get there in under a minute and Uriah flips on a light switch. It looks the same as the last time I was there: targets on one side, a table with guns on the other.  
 “They just keep these lying around?” I ask.  
 “Yeah, but they aren’t loaded.” Uriah pulls up his shirt. There is a gun stuck under the waistband of his pants, right under a tattoo. I stare at the tattoo, trying to figure out what it is, but then he lets his shirt fall. “Okay,” he says. “Go stand in front of a target.”  
 Marlene walks away, a skip in her step.  
 “You aren’t seriously going to shoot her, are you?” I ask Uriah.  
 “It’s not a real gun,” says Lynn quietly. “It’s got plastic pellets in it. The worst it’ll do is sting her face, maybe give her a welt. What do you think we are, stupid?”  
 Marlene stands in front of one of the targets and sets the muffin on her head. Uriah squints one eye as he aims the gun.  
 “Wait!” calls out Marlene. She breaks off a piece of the muffin and pops it into her mouth. “Mmkay!” she shouts, the word garbled by food. She gives a thumbs-up.  
 “I take it your ranks were good,” I say to Lynn.  
 She nods. “Uriah’s second. I’m first. Marlene’s fourth.”  
 “You’re only first by a hair,” says Uriah as he aims. He squeezes the trigger. The muffin falls off Marlene’s head and she didn’t even blink.  
 “We both win!” she shouts.  
 “You miss your old faction?” Lynn asks me.  
 “The faction? No,” I say. “Some of the people? Yes. Don’t get me wrong, I could do with some peace and quiet sometimes but that’s Dauntless!”  
 The door to the training room opens. Shauna, Zeke and Four walk in just as Uriah fires at another target. The plastic pellet bounces off the centre and rolls along the ground.  
 “I thought I heard something in here,” says Four.  
 “Turns out it’s my idiot brother,” says Zeke. “You’re not supposed to be in here after hour. Careful, or Four will tell Eric and then you’ll be as good as scalped.”  
 Uriah wrinkles his nose at his brother and puts the pellet gun away. Marlene crosses the room, taking bites of her muffin and Four steps away from the door to let us file out.  
 “You wouldn’t tell Eric,” says Lynn, eyeing Four suspiciously.  
 “No, I wouldn’t,” he says. As I pass him, he rests a hand on the top of my back to usher me out, his palm resting between my shoulder blades.  
 The others walk down the hallway, Zeke and Uriah shoving each other, Marlene splitting her muffin with Shauna, Lynn marching in front. I start to follow them.  
 “Wait a second,” Four says. I turn toward him and raise an eyebrow. He smiles a little, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, which look tense and worried.  
 “You belong here, you know that?” he says. “You belong with us. It’ll be over soon, so just hold on, okay?”  
 He scratches behind his ear and looks away, like he’s embarrassed by what he said.   
 I stare at him. I feel like doing something to thank him, but I could just as easily walk away. I am not sure which option is better, or smarter but I’m not sure that I care.  
 I reach out, taking his hand and squeezing it in mine. I smile up at him as he stares down at me. We stay like that until I hear Uriah screech, then I pull my hand away and run after my friends.

 

 I get back to the dorms before anyone else does and when they start to trickle in, I get into bed and pretend to be asleep. I don’t need any of them, especially if they’re going to react this way every time I do well, even after they’ve seen what I can do on the mats. When I make it through initiation, I will be Dauntless and I won’t have to see them anymore.  
 I don’t need them –but do I want them? Every tattoo I got with them is a mark of their friendship, and almost every time I have laughed in this dark place is because of them. I don’t want to lose them, but I feel like I already have.  
 After at least a half hour of racing thoughts, I roll onto my back and open my eyes. The dormitory is dark now –everyone has gone to bed. _Probably exhausted from resenting me so much_ , I think with a wry smile. As if coming from the most hated faction wasn’t enough, now I’m showing them up, too.  
 I get out of bed to get a drink of water. I’m not thirsty, but I need to do something. My bare feet make sticky sounds on the floor as I walk, my hand skimming the wall to keep my path straight. A bulb glows blue above the drinking fountain.  
 I tug my hair over one shoulder and bend over. As soon as the water touches my lips, I hear voices at the end of the hallway. I creep closer to them, trusting the dark to keep me hidden.  
 “So far there haven’t been any signs of it.” Eric’s voice. Signs of what?  
 “Well, you wouldn’t have seen much of it yet,” someone replies. A female voice; cold and familiar. “Combat training shows you nothing. The simulations, however, reveal who the Divergent rebels are, if there are any, so we will have to examine the footage several times to be sure.”  
 The word ‘Divergent’ makes my brain work harder.   
 “Don’t forget the reason I had Max appoint you,” the voice says. “Your first priority is always finding them. Always!”  
 I shift a few inches forward, hoping I am still hidden. I see some light hair under the blue glow of a light that reminds me of someone.  
 “I won’t forget.”  
 I tilt my head forward, straining to see them before they turn the corner.  
 Then someone grabs me from behind.  
 I snap my head back and try to make a run for it, but someone else grabs me. A hand claps over my mouth and I thrash, but the arms holding me are stronger than I thought. I bite down on one of the fingers and someone hisses through their teeth.   
 “Keep her mouth covered.” The voice is higher than the average male’s and clearer. Peter.  
 A strip of dark cloth covers my eyes and a new pair of hands ties it at the back of my head. There are at least two hands on my arms, dragging me forward and one on my back, shoving me in the same direction. There’s one on my mouth, keeping my screams in. Three people. It’d be easier to take them down if I could see.  
 “Wonder what it sounds like when a stiff begs for mercy,” Peter says with a chuckle. “Hurry up.”   
 I clench my teeth and breathe deeply through my nose. There is a strong smell of soap, sweat and something disgusting that I can’t distinguish.   
 I hear the crash of water against rocks. We are near the chasm –we must be above it, given the volume of the sound. I press my lips together and think of my options. If we are above the chasm, I know what they intend to do to me and I won’t let it happen.  
 “Lift her up, c’mon.”  
 I stamp down with my right foot, hard. Someone yelps and the hand around my mouth disappears. I lash out any way I can with my feet, catching someone between the legs and a hand disappears from my left arm. I whip off the cloth and see Peter, Drew and another of the initiates, I don’t recall his name.  
 My back is to the railing of the chasm with those three in front of me, and I see Al come up behind them. He presses a finger to his lips.  
 Drew lunges at me and strikes my face. I feel a trickle of blood leave my nose. The other initiate still hasn’t recovered from the kick he received.  
 Peter attempts to lunge at me, but Al grabs his collar and yanks him back. They square off with each other throwing punches here and there. I keep one eye on them and the other on Drew and the other initiate. Drew lunges at me again, but I dodge and swiftly knock him out, just as Peter gets Al with his back to the railing.  
 Everything moves in slow motion from then on. Al ducks a punch aimed for his jaw and lands a few of his own. I am frozen, watching the scene unfold. Peter drives his shoulder into Al’s stomach. Al hunches over trying to regain a normal breathing capacity but Peter is in the way. Peter grabs him behind the knees, one hand on each, and lifts him, pushing him back over the railing. I hear someone scream and it snaps me out of my daze, only to realise it was me screaming. I sprint forward hoping to...I don’t know, do something. I catch Al’s forearm as he flips the right way up. Our hands are like vices, gripping each other. My hands are small compared to his, so I need to use both. I know I can’t hold him for long; he’s heavy and Peter’s still up here.  
 “Come on, Al,” I beg, “please!” I can’t let him go.  
  “Don’t worry about it. I was never going to make it.” I see the acceptance in his eyes, and I feel the burn in mine.   
 “Don’t talk like that. Don’t you dare!” I shout. “You deserve to be here, with me and Christina, and Will. You’re family and family don’t give up on each other! You pull yourself together and get up here!” My vision is blurring.  
 “Just let me go, Tris!” I feel his hand loosen.  
 “No!” I shriek hysterically. I tighten my grip and try pulling him up but I’m not strong enough.

 He lets go of me, slipping further through my grasp. My arms are burning, my chest hurts because of the railing and still, I refuse to let go. My hands are around his wrist and he’s still slipping. My grip is weakening and I feet the tears dripping onto my hands, making it worse.   
 His fingers are relaxed, he won’t hold on. Why won’t he hold on? Why would he give up on himself?   
 “You’re a great sister, Tris.” I feel his finger tips leaving my hands and I scream. It’s ear piercing and terrified, blood curdling and furious and silent all at once.   
 I keep eye contact and he smiles up at me until I can’t see him anymore. I take a deep steadying breath and wipe my face before turning back to see Peter creeping closer to me. I feel the rage rise up, the fury take over and I see the second the realisation hits. He’s just killed Al, my friend, my brother and he’s going to pay for it. I see a crowd gathering, wondering what’s going on. I see Christina and Will out of the corner of my eye in their pyjamas.  


 “You!” I point at Peter. “You killed Al,” I shout. “You killed him and that was the last fucking step!” I take a step toward him. “You have done nothing but try to bring people down since you got here!” I take another step forward. “You have been nothing but a coward, a bully, you’re entire life.” And another step. “I warned you about what would happen if you fucked up again. I told you I’d kill you if you set another foot out of place. Getting two of your friends to help kidnap and kill me was supposed to be the last straw, but you killed Al! One of _the bravest_ , most amazing people I’ve ever met. You **murdered** him because he decided to stand up to you, for me!” He backs up and hits the wall. The fury I feel is still building. “How could you? How could you be so jealous and afraid of failure that you had to kill to get what you want? That is cowardice and here, at Dauntless, they see cowardice as weakness. They will see you as a coward and they won’t want you! How dare you take the life of a true Dauntless because of your insecurities!” I’m in his face now and the terror in his eyes pleases me. I pull my fist back and snap it forward, hitting his jaw. I hear the crunch of bone breaking and it makes me grin. I repeat the process over and over and over. He is nothing but a heap on the floor. Still breathing, but he will have to deal with the consequences of his actions from the leaders.

 My chest is heaving, my cheeks are wet with a mixture of blood and tears. I turn to the crowd and see the shocked faces of my friends. I see the emotionless expressions on Max, Eric and Four’s faces. I see fear amongst the other Dauntless and I realise that I must look manic. I look at Christina and Will again. They’re both crying and that’s when I lose it. I stumble a few steps toward them and fall to my knees. I lean forward onto my hands as sobs wrack my body. I press my forehead into the ground and fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I did not feel comfortable with the way Al betrayed Tris and committed suicide, so I hope it this was a better stand in. My apologies if you wanted to see Al live but he had to die somehow.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N; I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.

Why did he have to get out of bed? Did he know something was going to happen? How did he find us? What made him give up his life for mine? Why didn’t he save himself? Why?   
 I can’t wrap my head around it.   
‘Why?’ It’s the only thing running through my mind as I sob. But eventually, the sobs die down. I lean back onto my heels, wiping my face. I don’t look up until I’m sure I’m no longer crying. I keep my eyes on my hands that are covered in Peter’s blood.   
 Finally, I take a few deep breaths and stand. I square my shoulders, but I feel cold, empty and I am sure my face shows it because when I turn to look at my friends, my family, I see that they are taken aback. I raise my chin defiantly and stalk towards the dormitory. The crowd clears a path for me.   
 Getting to the dorms takes a lot of energy, but I need to get rid of the blood. I need to get rid of everything I’m wearing. I turn on the light grabbing clothes and a towel on my way past, not caring how much noise I’m making. In the shower, I strip and throw the soiled clothes toward the waste disposal. I turn the dial and tilt my head back closing my eyes. I tip my head forward, my chin resting on my chest. I open my eyes and see the blood is still on my hands and that’s when I begin to panic. Frantically, I scrub at myself, scraping my skin raw.  
 When I deem myself clean, I step out, dry off and quickly dress. I brush the tugs out of my hair and braid it. I stride out of the shower area, through the dorm and out the door. I don’t know where my feet are taking me.   
 Absentmindedly, I wind up in the middle of the Pit, watching as some Dauntless haul Al’s body up and out of the chasm. As they pull him over the railing, my feet take me forward. The Dauntless around me step out of the way and cast me wary glances. They lay him down and I see that his eyes are closed and his mouth still holds the smile he gave me as he fell.    
 Someone thinks I’m close enough and places their hand on my shoulder, someone else doing the same to the other. I look up to the right to see Max shaking his head. I turn to the left and see Eric doing the same.  
 “He gave his life up for me. He...” I take a breath. “...He died saving me. I don’t have to stress the importance of giving him a last goodbye!” My voice is emotionless, hollow and empty.   
 I shrug off their hands and continue on my path. As I come to his side, I lower myself to my knees. I feel nothing. Folding his hands on his stomach, I lean forward and kiss his forehead.  
 “Be at peace now, brother,” I whisper. “Bravery was your last act and it is by that in which we will remember you.” I press my forehead against his, the coolness of his body, sending chills to my very core. “Albert, the brave!”  
 I stand, take a few steps back, dust myself off, square my shoulders and turn to Max and Eric.  
 “What will be done about his murderer?” I ask.  
 “Considering he’s not a member, according to our society’s rules, he’ll have to visit Candor and undergo the truth serum. If he were a member, he’d be executed after a Dauntless trial.” Max replies.  
 “But that’ll have to wait until he wakes up,” Eric butts in. “As far as our doctors can tell, his lower jaw bone is...” He thinks about the right words, “...smashed to pieces and he’s sustained some brain injuries. You really did a number on him.”  
 “Good!” It comes out harsh, cold and raging. “I should have killed him when I had the chance and you two wouldn’t let me. Now look at what’s happened! A perfectly good man is dead. If Peter’s still alive after his trial, I’m done!”  
 I push through the middle of them, making sure they know I’m pissed.

 “Tris!” I hear Max call out, but I ignore him.  
 “Tris!” Eric tries.  
 “Initiate!” The sharpness makes my steps falter, but I keep going.  
 My feet take me to the training room. I flip the switch, remove my jacket and step up to a punch bag. I roll my shoulders and stretch. I block everything but the punch bag out and start throwing punches.   
 “I’m gonna make it bend and break. Say a prayer but let the good times roll, in case God doesn’t show. And I want these words to make things right, but it’s the wrongs that make the words come to life. ‘Who does he think he is?’ If that’s the worst you got, better put your fingers back to the keys.”  
 I don’t think, I just sing and punch.  
 “One night and one more time. Thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great. ‘He tastes like you only sweeter.’ One night, yeah and one more time, thanks for the memories. Thanks for the memories, ‘see, he tastes like you only sweeter.’”  
 Or sing and elbow.  
 “Been looking forward to the future, but my eyesight is going bad. And this crystal ball is always cloudy except for, when you look into the past, one night stand off.”  
 Or sing and knee.  
 “One night and one more time. Thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great. ‘He tastes like you only sweeter.’ One night, yeah and one more time, thanks for the memories. Thanks for the memories, ‘see, he tastes like you only sweeter.’”  
 Or sing and kick.  
 “They say I only think in the form of crunching numbers, in hotel rooms, collecting page six lovers. Get me out of my mind and get you out of those clothes. I’m a liner away from getting you into the mood, whoa!  
 “One night and one more time. Thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great. ‘He tastes like you only sweeter.’ One night, yeah and one more time, thanks for the memories. Thanks for the memories, ‘see, he tastes like you only sweeter.’  
 “One night and one more time. Thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great. ‘He tastes like you only sweeter.’ One night, yeah and one more time, thanks for the memories. Thanks for the memories, ‘see, he tastes like you only sweeter.’  
 

Before I know it, my body is heavy with fatigue. The energy gone from stomping on Drew’s foot, lashing out with my feet, repeatedly punching Peter and holding onto Al for as long as I did. I can’t lift my arms and my forehead rests against the bag. I’m not sure whether it’s sweat or tears that I feel on my face. I’m not sure I want to find out either. I collect my jacket and find a dark, quiet hallway. I sit down with my back against the concrete, pulling my legs into my chest. I cover as much of me as possible with my jacket. Letting my head fall forward, I don’t feel my eye close.

 

Something nudges my shoulder and I groan.  
 The nudge comes again and I lift my head slowly. There is an ache in my neck. I squint, trying to see what woke me. All I see is the dark silhouette of a crouched person.   
 “Come on, Tris!” The voice doesn’t register very well.  
 “Go ‘way!” My throat is scratchy and dry.  
“You can’t sleep here.”  
 “Said go ‘way!” I put my head back down and my eyes slip closed.

 

 When I wake in the morning, the words ‘Fear God alone’ are painted on a plain white wall. I hear the sound of a shower running. I don’t know where I am, or whose apartment this is but I am extremely comfortable. I stretch and groan because of the ache in my back and neck. I hear cracks and it makes my back feel so much better. I sit up in time to see Four throw on a black shirt. I catch the corner of a tattoo as he turns to flip the bathroom’s light switch.  
 “Morning,” he says. “The leaders are giving everyone today off because of what happened last night.”  
 “How much did everyone see?”  
 “Well, I was on my way back from the control room when I heard a scream. When I got to the chasm, there was already a crowd. No one was moving. I saw and heard you shouting at Al to pull himself together and well, you know the rest.”   
 I close my eyes and drop my head. That means that Al could’ve lived, if someone had just helped me. I feel something hit my thighs and then I’m sobbing again. I take a few deep breaths, hoping to stop the crying. Four hands me some tissues and a glass of water.  
 “Hey, Four?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Can I trust you, implicitly?” He nods, serious. “What would you say if I told you there’s going to be an attack on Abnegation?”  
 “I’d say it’s a very high possibility and I’ve had my suspicions about something like that happening. But why would someone want to attack Abnegation?”  
 “Let’s just say they have something that someone wants and that someone is going to go on the offensive, soon! Don’t do anything stupid with what I just said and don’t trust everything you read, anywhere.”  
 “Okay,” he says slowly. “Come on, time for breakfast.”  
 I’m not hungry but I know I have to eat something.  
 “I mean it, Four. Not everything is as it seems. You may think you’re looking at a traitor, when really, you’re looking at the person that’s been passing information onto the loyal.” I sigh, “I need to go get changed before doing anything.” I don’t want to go to the dorms. If I have to look at Christina and Will for an extended period of time, I won’t be able to hold myself together.  
 As we’re leaving Four’s apartment, he says, “Max wants to see you in his office after breakfast so don’t be late!”

 

I change and don’t bother with breakfast.  
 “Here you go,” Tori says. She hands me a steaming mug that smells like peppermint. I hold it with both hands, my fingers prickling with warmth.  
 She sits down across from me. When it comes to funerals, the Dauntless don’t like wasting time. Tori said they want to acknowledge death as soon as possible. Everyone else is at breakfast, waiting for the funeral mid-morning.  
 At home, a funeral is a sombre occasion. Everyone gathers to support the deceased’s family and no one has idle hands, but there is no laughter, or shouting, or joking. And the Abnegation don’t drink alcohol so everyone is sober. It makes sense that funerals would be the opposite here.  
 “Drink it,” she says. “It will make you feel better, I promise.”  
 “I don’t think that tea is the solution,” I say slowly. But I sip it anyway. It warms my mouth and my throat and trickles into my stomach. I didn’t realise how cold I was until I wasn’t anymore.  
 “’Better’ is the word I used. Not ‘good.’” She smiles at me, but the corners of her eyes don’t crinkle like they usually do. “I don’t think ‘good’ will happen for a while.”  
 I bite my lip. “How long...” I struggle for the right words. “How long did it take for you to be okay again, after your brother...”  
 “Don’t know.” She shakes her head. “Some days I feel like I’m still not okay. Some days I feel fine. Happy, even. It took me a few years to stop plotting revenge, though.”  
 “Why did you stop?” I ask.  
 Her eyes go vacant as she stares at the wall behind me. She taps her fingers against her leg for a few seconds and then says, “I don’t think of it as stopping. More like I’m...waiting for my opportunity.”  
 “Hold onto the hope that he may still be out there, but I guarantee you get your chance sooner rather than later!” I tell her.  
 She comes out of her daze and checks her watch.  
 “Time for you to go if you don’t want to keep Max waiting,” she says.  
 I pour the rest of my tea down the sink. I hug Tori and thank her as I take my leave.

 I walk to Max’s office, slowly. I don’t want to face him just yet, but I need to know how much of last night he saw. I need to know why no one helped pull Al up. I need to know why no one stepped up when Al, the guy who didn’t want to hurt anyone, stepped up for me.  
 I knock on the door and wait. It only takes a minute before the door opens, revealing Max. When I step past him, I see Eric and one of the female leaders sitting on a sofa.  
 My voice is monotonous when I speak.  
 “What’s this about?” I ask.  
 “Please, take a seat.” Max points to the chair across from his.  
 “I’d rather not,” I tell him. I stand with my feet shoulder width apart, my back straight and my hands clasped behind my back.  
 “Have it your way, then.” Max leans back into his chair, seemingly relaxed, but I see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands grasp the arms of the chair. “We thought we’d let you know that Peter is in a coma and it looks like he won’t be waking up.”  
 I think that over in my head. Peter, in a coma, brain dead? Good, I told him I’d kill him if he stepped out of line again and he done just that!  
 The others in the room look like they’re waiting for a reaction and seem disappointed when they don’t get one.  
 “Is that all? Can I go now?”   
 “No. That’s not all.” Max touches the screen of a small Dauntless tablet a few times. “We’d like to formally apologise for not offering help when it was needed.”  
The laugh that throws itself from my throat is cold, hollow and empty and it surprises all four of us.  
 “Shove your apologies, _sir_. My friend died because the whole of Dauntless were too cowardly to do anything about it! That boy saved my life, giving his own up in the process and you want to apologise for not being as Dauntless as I thought you all were. He was family and more Dauntless than any Dauntless in this compound.  
 “You expect me to accept an apology when I know for a fact that so many people witnessed what happened last night and not one of them done a damn thing about it? And they call this the warrior faction; the brave faction. You want me to forgive and forget that I almost died last night and the only person with the courage to help me, died? He died and all you can offer is an apology? What is wrong with you people? Two Dauntless initiates are dead, because none of the Dauntless _members_ done anything to help or stop it. You know those people that have already passed through initiation and claimed their ‘bravery.’”  Here comes the sarcasm, “ _Amazing_ faction you have here! Has anyone read the manifesto? Do they know what it actually says? You should probably have everyone tattoo it to themselves then no one will forget, that seems like something the Dauntless would do!”  
 They ride it out without a sound.   
 “You and the other leaders turned initiation into a competition and now, people are being murdered because of it. I hope you’re all so proud of yourselves, because if this is the Dauntless I have to live in, in future? I’d rather be factionless and I know so many people that’d follow me! What will the leaders do when they only have half a faction? What happens when half of the warrior faction, the faction that protects this city and its inhabitants, move out and disappear? What will the other factions say?” I feel heat in my face and I know I have an angry blush. There is fire in my eyes and I have never been angrier. “I hope you’re happy, Uncle Max, because shit just got serious! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a funeral to attend.”

 “Hold on just a minute, young lady,” the woman scolds.   
 I scoff as I turn to face her.  
 “What?”   
 “You can’t just come in here and say all that without consequences.”  
 “Julia,” Max warns.  
I laugh a full belly laugh. “You don’t get it, do you?” I ask.  
 “Don’t get what? You come in here, speak to three leaders like that and expect to get off scot free.”  
 “You think I’m getting off without consequences?” I ask my voice hard. “Every time I close my eyes, I watch my friend fall to his death. Every time I blink, I see him telling me to let him go. When I sleep, I feeling my muscles straining to hold onto him, my hands cramping from the exertion and I feel him slipping through my grasp and then I see you! _Dauntless, the brave_ , doing nothing about it. And you have the _nerve_ to offer me an apology. An apology won’t turn back time and it won’t bring him back from the dead. Yet, it still makes you look like cowards. Apologising makes you look like cowards. Lady, I don’t care if you’re a leader or not, but being insensitive and downright disrespectful at a time like this will get you nowhere, except my shit list! And that, at best, is stupidity. At worst, I can’t guarantee you’d live. You think that just because you’re a leader, you’re untouchable? That because I’m a sixteen year old girl, I don’t have any life experience? If that’s what you think, then you are sorely mistaken. I couldn’t care any less than I do now about leadership. I lost respect for leadership last night, when they stood back and watched as my friend saved my life and told me to practically end his. Now get the fuck outta here, or so help me, I will make you leave. Permanently!”   
 When she doesn’t move, I step up to the door and hold it open.  
 “Last chance, lady!”  
 “Julia, I think you’d better do as she says. She’s a force to be reckoned with when she’s happy, and right now, she’s pissed. Extremely pissed!”  
 “This isn’t over,” she hisses as she walks past.  
 “Oh, honey. If you want to go a few rounds, I’ll end it because I’m in the mood for it now.”  
 She keeps walking.

I throw the door closed and turn back to Max as it slams shut. I don’t even flinch.  
His eyes are wary as he sits up straight. The tension in the room is thick and heavy.   
 “Beatrice, you have every right to be angry, but taking it out on Julia wasn’t the right thing to do. She could have you executed for that.”  
 “Good, let her try.”  
 “I’m serious. You need to see reason.”  
 “I’m being serious too, _sir_! Which reason would you like me to see? How about...why you didn’t help me when I needed it? Or...why I was attacked by three males and almost killed? Wait, I know! Why am I still here when I should be getting ready to attend a funeral? That’s right, I don’t need to be here, I need to be there, saying goodbye to my friend and honouring his memory.”

 “There’s no getting through to you, is there?”  
 “Meaning...what, exactly?”  
 “You think the Dauntless don’t see your pain? You think they don’t care that they didn’t do anything? Every single member that witnessed what happened last night is feeling guilty. And don’t forget the anger at themselves for their cowardice last night. And honestly, I don’t blame them for not helping,” he holds a hand up when I try to interrupt. “Do you know what it’s like to see an initiate, but not just any initiate; a tiny girl! Who is blindfolded, take down two people a lot bigger than her? And then hold onto a third for as long as she can? And finally beat the living shit out of a fourth? It’s shocking and in the eyes of the Dauntless, it’s stunning. What you did last night in the face of death? That’s what courage is; that’s Dauntless.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “Eric and I were on our way to our apartments, walking past the chasm when we saw what was happening. We were the first people there and I just couldn’t move. Watching as someone you’ve witnessed grow from being a child into a young adult, is marched towards the deadliest thing in the compound, that kind of fear is heart stopping.” I see the fear in his eyes as he zones out and relives what he saw. It is terrifying to watch someone like Max, who is so strong, crumble.   
 “Why did no one stop me from killing Peter?” I am genuinely curious and my voice is quiet.

 “We were there when you warned him, and as far as we’re concerned, you left him alive and breathing.” I had forgotten that Eric was in the room.  
 “Really? What are you going to tell his parents, the other faction leaders? Are you going to tell them exactly what happened? Or are you going to tell them something different?”  
 “Let’s just get Al’s funeral out of the way, shall we? It’s time.”

 

As we walk through the double doors that lead to the Pit, I see people staggering and giggling, already drunk. But when they see me, flanked by Max and Eric, everyone stops what they’re doing and stands up as straight as they can. The further we walk, the quieter the room gets, the only sound is the rush of water in the chasm.   
 Christina and Will move toward us and I shake my head. I can see the swollen, bloodshot eyes of Christina and I can’t handle it right now. I need to be able to get through this as quickly and as emotionlessly as possible.   
 Max and Eric climb up onto a table and pull me up, against my will. We wind up in the same formation as we were when walking through the Pit. All eyes are on us, the other leaders standing to our left.  
 “As we all know,” Eric begins, “we’re here because of the events that transpired late last night. We’ve lost two souls. Yes, Peter, an initiate, succumbed to his injuries this morning, but he was a coward!”  
 Max continues, “It’d be easy to mourn the deaths, but we did not choose a life of ease here at Dauntless.”   
 “The truth is, Albert, another initiate, and my self-proclaimed brother gave up his life for mine and I would not be here today if it weren’t for him. He was thrown into the chasm by Peter.” I tell them.  
 “Albert is now exploring an unknown, uncertain place. He was thrown into vicious waters, long before his time. Albert was not yet one of our members, but we can be assured that he was one of our _bravest_! We will celebrate him now, and remember him always.”  
 Someone hands me a bottle. I raise it and shout, “ _To Albert, the Courageous_!”  
 A whoop rises from the centre of the crowd. The Dauntless cheer at varying pitches, bright and deep, and high and low. Their roar overcomes the sound of the water. I take a drink from the bottle and the liquid burns my throat.  
 “To Albert!” shouts the crowd. Arms lift all around the room and the Dauntless chant his name. They chant until his name no longer sounds like his name. It sounds like the primal scream of an ancient race.  
 Max steps down into the crowd and disappears. I see Will and Christina standing on the edge of the crowd with Uriah, Lynn and Marlene. They all have their drinks raised and pointed in my direction, waiting for acknowledgement. I raise my glass and give a sharp nod, and we tip our bottles back at the same time. I watch them as I drink, no one seems happy but they don’t seem all that sad either. My guess is they don’t want to seem happy or sad, up or down. They just want to drink and drown their sorrows.  
  I am about to step down when a hand lands on my shoulder and a body goes past me. Eric turns to me and holds out a hand.  
 Who said chivalry was dead?  
 Back on two feet, Eric pulls me through the crowd. I don’t know where we’re going but we walk through many a dark hallway. At the end of the one we’re walking now is a drinking fountain, bathed in the blue glow of the light above it.  
 “Eric, where are we going?” He ignores me and keeps walking. He pulls me into a darker hallway. He peeks out of the entrance and then turns to me, “You need to be more careful in the simulations. The Erudite get all the feeds and they’ve specifically asked that I keep an eye on you. Jeanine’s been on my ass about Divergents since we started with the simulations.”  
 “So that’s who you were talking to last night?” I whisper.  
 “Yes. Wait, how did you know?”  
 “I went to get a drink at the fountain and heard you talking to someone, that’s when I was grabbed.”   
 “Okay,” he draws it out. “Jeanine’s becoming suspicious of you. You need to do a better job of pretending that selfless impulse is going away, because if she discovers it...let’s just say it won’t be good for you.”  
 “Great! The psychotic head of Erudite has it out for me. How, exactly, am I supposed to get through the simulations without manipulating them?”  
 “Think Dauntless. What would a Dauntless do if their fear was drowning?”  
 “I don’t know, swim deeper? But what would a Dauntless do if they were forced to choose between family and faction while being held at gun point?” I ask. I need to know.  
 “That depends on the initiate. Is their family Dauntless? If not then technically, ‘Faction Before Blood’ can be taken two ways in that scenario. One, you shoot your faction before your family. Two, you save your faction members for last. ”  
 “And if no one has a weapon except for the initiate and the person holding the gun to their head?”  
 “Think about it. If you’re Dauntless and you’re being threatened, do you do as they say or neutralise the threat?”  
 I nod. It gives me a lot to think about. Would a Dauntless refuse to shoot either? Would they take the bullet to the head instead? Would they shoot their family, or their faction members? Would they shoot themselves or the person holding them at gun point?   
 “Jeanine’s trying to bring stage three forward quicker. She wants initiation over and done with so we can go to war.”

 I spend the rest of the day, wandering around in a daze of sorts. At dinner, I sit with my friends and the mood around us is lively and light, but the mood at our table is sombre. We’re all pushing our food around our plates when a hand lands on my shoulder. I whip around and see the initiate that was with Peter and Drew.  
 “Tris, I’m sorry. I thought they were only trying to scare you.”  
 “Get away from me!” I tell him quietly.  
 “I didn’t know Peter would go that far.” He tries to plead his case.  
 “I don’t care what you thought. Peter and Al are dead because Peter was a coward. You followed Peter because you believed his lies. He came from Candor, right? So he wouldn’t lie, **right**? You are a coward. Drew, is a coward. You have ten seconds to walk away or I’m going to do a lot more damage than I did last night!” I hear my friends stand but I don’t face them. His eyes dart everywhere and I hear something that sounds like cracking knuckles. When I do glance at my friends, I see the rage on their faces. Uriah, Will and Marlene are cracking their knuckles in preparation for a fight. I turn back to see the initiate looking defeated and so, he turns and walks off.  
 “You know, I remember the other day with clarity. Al had been giving me a piggyback ride when he and Will decided it’d be fun to throw us over their shoulders and run to the dining hall. I’d never seen him look so carefree and happy,” Christina says. “That’s the way I want to remember him.”  
 “No, the first day of the fights. Edward tried making fun of him and Al knocked him out cold. He looked so panicked afterwards, thinking he’d killed him.” Will tells Uriah, “But that’s just the kind of guy he was. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.”  
 “Right before he died, he got Peter good! I mean a combination punch. He ducked Peter’s fist and hit him twice with his right fist and socked him with the left. It was beautiful!” I tell them. I smile at the memory. Al had never looked comfortable hurting anyone but at the time, he looked like he’d been doing it his whole life.   
 Like he was made for it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.  
> I’ll try to get 16 up tonight but if not, definitely tomorrow.  
> From then on, I’ll post as I write, which could vary.  
> Enjoy!

 After breakfast, Four stands between the tables. Conversation ceases abruptly.

 “Transfers, we’ve been told to get you back to training this morning so today we’re doing something different,” he says. “Follow me.”  
 We stand and Uriah’s forehead wrinkles. “Be careful,” he tells us.

 Four leads us out of the dining hall and along the paths that surround the Pit. Christina is on my right, Will is on my left.  
 “I don’t want to do training today,” Christina says quietly. “I hate bringing it up because of the memories but our friend just died. We need a little more time.”  
 I don’t know what to say to her. I want to comfort her, but I don’t know if I can.   
 “I agree, but we chose Dauntless and they don’t seem to linger on death,” Will says.   
 “True! But would it kill them to give us one more day to wrap our heads around it? It’s not that I don’t want initiation over and done with. It’s just that I’m still, kind of, in denial about the whole thing.”  
 We climb higher than I’ve gone before, until Will’s face goes white whenever he looks down. Most of the time I like heights, so I grab Will’s arms like I need his support –but really, I’m lending him mine. He smiles gratefully.   
 Four turns around and walks backward a few steps –backward, on a narrow path with no railing. How well do the Dauntless know this place if they’re able to do that at random intervals.  
 He eyes Drew, who limps at the back of the group and says, “Pick up the pace, Drew!”  
 It’s a cruel joke and I want to smile, but I can’t. The fact that Drew’s still here makes me angry and bitter.  
We get closer and closer to the glass ceiling and for the first time in days, I see the sun. Four walks up a flight of metal stairs leading us through a hole in the ceiling. They creak under my feet and I look down to see the Pit and chasm below us.  
 We walk across the glass, which is now a floor rather than a ceiling, and through a cylindrical room with glass walls. The surrounding buildings are half-collapsed and appear to be abandoned, which is probably why no one notices the Dauntless compound. The Abnegation sector is also far away.  
 The Dauntless mill around the glass room, talking in clusters and at the edge of the room, two Dauntless fight with Escrima sticks, laughing when one of them misses and hits only air. Above me, two ropes stretch across the room, one a few feet higher than the other. More of the famous Dauntless stunts.  
 Four leads us through another door. Beyond is a huge, dank space with graffitied walls and exposed pipes. The room is lit by a series of old-fashioned fluorescent tubes with plastic covers –they must be ancient.  
 “This,” says Four, his eyes bright in pale light, “is a different kind of simulation known as the fear landscape. It has been disabled for this morning’s purposes, so this isn’t what it will look like the next time you see it.”  
 Behind him, the word ‘Dauntless’ is spray-painted in red artistic lettering on a concrete wall.  
 “Through your simulations, we have stored data about your worst fears. The fear landscape accesses that data and presents you with a series of virtual obstacles. Some of the obstacles will be fears you previously faced in your simulations. Some may be new fears. The difference is that you are aware, in the fear landscape, that it is a simulation, so you will have all your wits about you as you go through it.”  
 That means that everyone will be like the Divergent in the fear landscape. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, there’s a good chance I won’t be detected. On the other, I won’t have an advantage.  
 Four continues, “The number of fears you have in your landscape varies according to how many you have.”  
 How many fears will I have? I think of my family and friends, and the cold steel of a gun muzzle at my temple and shiver, though the air is warm.  
 “I told you before that the third stage of initiation focuses on mental preparation,” he says. I remember when he said that. On the first day. Right before he put a gun to Peter’s head. Oh, how I wish he’d pulled the trigger then. He’d have saved a lot of trouble.  
 “That is because it requires you to control both your emotions and your body –to combine the physical abilities you learned in stage one with the emotional mastery you learned in stage two. To keep a level head.” One of the fluorescent tubes above Four’s head twitches and flickers. Four stops scanning the crowd and focuses his stare on me.  
 “In a few days time, you will go through your fear landscape as quickly as possible in front of a panel of leaders, Erudite and Dauntless. That will be your final test, which determines your ranking for stage three. Just as stage two of initiation is weighted more heavily than stage one, stage three is weighted heaviest of all. Understood?”  
 We all nod. Will looks thoughtful.  
 If I do well in my final test, I have a good choice of careers and a great chance of becoming a member and changing some stuff around here.  
 “Why are we being watched by Erudite? I get the Dauntless leaders because it’s Dauntless initiation, but why...why Erudite?”  
 “The Erudite are the people that make the technology and the serums. Every few years, they like to see their work in progress. Think of it like initiation. You have the serums, they need to be tested and monitored to make sure they work. If they don’t work, they don’t pass. The same goes for the tech. If they see something they don’t like, they’ll pull it and test it to see what went wrong or they’ll look through the system for the glitch.” He scans the crowd again, meeting everyone’s eyes, “If our tech and serums don’t work properly, then our initiates aren’t being initiated properly. I’m sure you can see how that’d be a problem.”  
 I just need to go through with the whole plan of bringing Jeanine down.  
 “You can get past each obstacle one of two ways. Either you find a way to calm down enough that the simulation registers a normal steady heartbeat, or you find a way to face your fear which can force the simulation to move on. One way to face a fear of falling from a great height is to jump, for example.” Four shrugs. “So I suggest you take a while to consider your fears and develop strategies to face them.”  
 “That doesn’t sound fair,” says Drew. “What if one person has seven fears and another has twenty? That’s not their fault.”  
 Four stares at him for a few seconds and then laughs. “Do you really want to talk to me about what’s fair?”  
 The crowd of initiates’ parts to make way for him as he walks toward Drew, folds his arms and says, in a deadly voice, “I understand your worry, Drew. The events of the other night proved that you are a miserable coward. So now we all know that you’re afraid of small girls from Abnegation.” His mouth curls in a smile.  
 Will puts his arm around me and Christina’s shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. And somewhere within me, that hollow feeling got a little bit fuller and I find myself smiling too.

 A while before lunch, I stand with Christina and Will at the railing overlooking the chasm. I step up on one of the barrier’s crossbars, pressing my hips to the railing to keep my balance. This is where Al stood, fighting for my life. I look down at the chasm, at the black water and the jagged rocks. Water hits the wall and sprays up, misting my face. Was he afraid when he stood here? Or was he so determined to beat the bully that it was easy?  
 Christina hands me a stack of paper. I got a copy of every report the Erudite have released in the last six months. Throwing them into the chasm won’t get rid of them, but it might make me feel better.  
 I stare at the first one. On it is a picture of Jeanine, that psychotic head of Erudite that I dislike. Her sharp-but-attractive eyes stare back at me.  
 “Have you ever met her?” I ask Will. Christina crumples the first report into a ball and hurls it into the water.  
 “Jeanine? Once,” he replies. He takes the next report and tears it to shreds. The pieces float into the river. He does it without Christina’s malice. I get the feeling that the only reason he’s participating is to prove to me that he doesn’t agree with his former faction’s tactics. Whether he believes what they’re saying or not is unclear and I don’t want to ask.  
 “Before she was a leader, she worked with my sister. They were trying to develop longer-lasting serums for the simulations,” he says. “Jeanine’s so smart you can see it even before she says anything. Like...a walking, talking computer.”  
 “Your...” I fling one of the pages over the railing, pressing my lips together. I should just ask.   
“Your thoughts on what she has to say?”  
 He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a good idea to have more than one faction in control of the government. And it would be nice if we had more cars or fresh fruit, but if everyone’s trying to survive in the city, whether they’re Erudite or not, that’s not the way to go about it. The stuff she said about your dad makes me kind of hate her. I can’t imagine what good can come of saying such terrible things.”  
 I can and I already told him. If Jeanine can make people believe that the Abnegation leaders, my father included, are corrupt and awful then she has the support she needs for a revolution. I throw the remaining sheets into the chasm. They drift back and forth, turning over until they reach the water. They will be filtered out at the chasm wall and discarded.  
 “It’s lunchtime,” Christina says, smiling. “Anyone else hungry or is it just me?”

 

 In the dining hall, Uriah drops down in front of me, next to Will.   
 “I heard we’re doing fear landscapes after lunch. It won’t be our fear landscapes yet. We’ll be going through one of the instructors’.   
 “You know, it’s really unfair that you get insider information and we don’t,” Will says, nudging Uriah with his elbow.  
 “Like you wouldn’t use an advantage if you had one,” he retorts.  
 Christina ignores them. “I hope it’s Four’s landscape.”  
 “Why?” I ask.  
 “Like you don’t want to know what his fears are. He acts so tough that he’s probably afraid of marshmallows and really bright sunrises or something. Overcompensating.” She rolls her eyes.  
 I have to admit, I’m curious about his fears. I’m curious about a lot of people.  
 I shake my head, “It won’t be him.”  
 “How would you know?”  
 “He’s a very private person. Doesn’t like being asked personal questions and I’m sure he wouldn’t share his fears with us. To him, I’m guessing, that’s the one thing he’ll keep to himself, no matter what!”  


 

Lauren, the Dauntless-born instructor, stands with her hands on her hips outside the fear landscape room.  
 “Two years ago,” she says, “I was afraid of spiders, suffocation, walls that inch slowly inward and trap you between them, getting thrown out of Dauntless, uncontrollable bleeding, getting run over by a train, my father’s death, public humiliation, and kidnapping by men without faces.”  
 Everyone stares blankly at her.  
 “Most of you will have anywhere from ten to fifteen fears in your landscape. That is the average number,” she says.  
 “What’s the lowest number someone has gotten?” asks Lynn.  
 “In recent years,” says Lauren, “four.”  
 My eyes land on Four. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor. Four is a low number, low enough to merit a nickname but being less than half the average, that’s something more.  
 “You will not find out your number today,” Lauren continues. “The simulation is set to my fear landscape programme, so you will experience my fears instead of you own.”  
 I give Christina a pointed look. I was right; we won’t be going through Four’s landscape.  
 “For the purposes of this exercise, though, each of you will only face one fear of mine to get a sense of how the simulation works.”  
 Lauren points to us at random and assigns each of us a fear. I was standing in the back when she assigned me her kidnapping fear.  
 Because I’m not hooked up to the computer as I wait, I can’t watch the simulation, only the person’s reaction to it. It is the perfect way to distract myself from the fear assigned to me. I clench my hands as Will brushes off spiders I can’t see and Uriah presses his hands against walls that are invisible to me, and smirking as Drew burns bright red during whatever experiences in ‘public humiliation.’ Then it’s my turn.  
 This won’t be comfortable for me, but because I have been able to manipulate every simulation, not just this one, I am not apprehensive as Lauren inserts the needle into my neck.  
 Then the scenery changes and the kidnapping begins. The ground turns to grass beneath my feet and a hand clamps over my mouth. A couple of hands grasp my arms. It is too dark to see.  
 I stand next to the chasm. I hear the roar of the water. I scream into that hand that covers my mouth and thrash to free myself, but the arms are too strong; my kidnappers are too strong. I stop thrashing as I lose myself to the memory of my kidnapping. I am barely breathing, my heartbeat pulsing, a rush through my ears.   
 “Stop,” a stern voice says, but it’s distant.  
 I am lost in the feeling of Drew’s hand clasped over my mouth, his other hand digging into my back. The feeling of my foot making contact. Whipping the blindfold off, watching Al and Peter fight.  
 The room brightens and I sink to my knees, arms heavy at my sides. I am kneeling on the cement floor of the fear landscape room. My body is still, my chest barely moving. My eyes are unseeing, shifting from left to right, following the movements of my memories.

 “What landscape was she in?” The voices are still distant. I hear approaching footsteps, echoing.   
 “Kidnapping by faceless men.”  
 “Are you out of your goddamned mind?” Someone explodes and that brings me back.  
 “What?” Lauren sounds terrified and when I look up, I see why.  
 Max is glaring at her, his nostrils flared and his chest heaving. Max is seething with rage. The other leaders seem confused by his outburst.  
Eric approaches me cautiously.  
 “You good?” he asks quietly. He crouches in front of me and takes one of my hands. “Tris?”  
 “What about Erudite?” I whisper.  
 “I don’t care about that right now. All that matter is that you’re all right!”  
 I launch myself at him and wrap my arms around his waist. I bury my face in his chest as his arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me closer. He stands us up and pulls back, hooks an arm around the back of my knees and lifts me. I turn into his shoulder, tears making his shirt wet.  
 “I was told that an initiate threw himself off the chasm.” I hear Lauren say.  
 “No, that initiate was murdered while stopping _her_ attempted kidnapping.” Max is still shouting and I snap.  
 “She has a fucking name, you know, and she’s right here!”

 All eyes snap to me.  
 “Uncle Max, you need to calm down!”  
 “Calm down? If we hadn’t gotten here when we did, you could have died in there!” He glares at Lauren again.  
 “Well, if you’re going to shout at anyone, shout at the right person. Just because it’s her fear landscape doesn’t mean it’s her fault.” I force my way out of Eric’s arms and step up to Max. He puts a hand on my shoulder, the other taking my heart rate. From the outside, it’d look as if he’s trying to soothe me, but I know it’s to make him feel better. “If anyone’s at fault here, it’s me for going ahead with it. Now, back off! It’s not her fault.”  
 I shrug his hand off and walk out of the room.   
I hear murmurs of, “Great! You just pissed her off again!” and “What just happened?” as the door closes behind me.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.  
> My sincerest apologies, ladies and gents.  
> I have had next to no energy since Monday morning.  
> My son has gotten a little worse, but we’ll get through it.  
> Bleh! This chapter bores me, no doubt it’ll bore you too,  
> so I’ll get the next chapter up, asap!  
> Thanks for your patience, enjoy =D

I leave the compound through a side door, pulling my jacket on in the process. I haven’t been outside in a while. The sun shines pale against my face as I look around me.  
 At least I accidentally accomplished one thing: I made Max look bad in front of the other leaders, and the initiates.  
Yesterday, victory seemed possible. Today I’m not so sure.  
 I slide my hands through my hair. The impulse to cry and scream is gone. I tie my hair back with the rubber band around my wrist. I feel more like myself. That is all I need: to remember who I am and why I’m in this mess in the first place. And I am someone who does not let inconsequential things like boys, near-death experiences and a friends’ death stop her. If anything, it makes me want to be better and work harder.  
 I laugh, shaking my head. Am I?  
 I hear the train horn. The tracks loop around the Dauntless compound and then continue farther than I can see. Where do they begin? Where do they end? What is the world beyond them like?  
I walk toward them.  
 I want to go home, but I can’t. Eric warned us not to appear too attached to our parents on Visiting Day, so visiting home would be a betrayal in the eyes of the Dauntless and I can’t afford that. What Eric did not tell us, is that we couldn’t visit people in factions other than the one we came from.  
 I know I’m not allowed to leave without supervision, but I can’t help it. I walk faster, until I’m sprinting. Pumping my arms, I run alongside the last car until I can grab the handle and swing myself in.  
 Once in the car, I close the door and sit with my knees pulled up to my chest, staring at nothing. Leaving the Dauntless compound behind me could be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done but I have to see my brother. I don’t want to go back, but choosing to quit, to be factionless, would be the bravest thing I’ve ever done and today, I feel like a coward.  
 The train slows as it reaches the heart of the city and so, I stand and open the door. I watch smaller buildings grow into larger buildings. The Erudite live in large stone and glass buildings that overlook the marsh. I hold the handle and lean out just enough to see where the tracks go. They dip down to street level just before they bend east. I breathe in the smell of wet pavement and marsh air.   
 The train dips and slows, and I jump. My legs shudder with the force of my landing and I run a few steps to regain my balance. I walk down the middle of the street, heading south, toward the marsh. The empty land stretches as far as I can see, a brown plane colliding with the horizon.  
 I turn left. The Erudite buildings loom above me. I get glances and second looks as I walk. How will I find Caleb here?  
 The Erudite keep records; it’s in their nature. They must keep records of their initiates. Someone has access to those records; I just have to find them. I scan the buildings as I pass. Logically speaking, the central building should be the most important one. I may as well start there.  
 The faction members are milling around everywhere. Some of them cast me curious glances. Others stare but most of them look wary. Erudite faction norms dictate that a faction member must wear at least one blue article of clothing at a time, because blue causes the body to release calming chemicals, and ‘a calm mind is a clear mind.’ The colour has come to signify their faction and I am surrounded by a sea of blue. It seems impossibly bright to me now. I have grown used to the dim lighting and dark clothing of Dauntless.  
 I expect to weave through the crowd, dodging elbows and muttering ‘excuse me’ the way I always do, but there is no need. Becoming Dauntless has made me noticeable. The crowd parts for me and their eyes follow me, clinging as I pass. I pull the rubber band from my hair and shake it from its knot before I walk through the front doors.  
 I stand just inside the entrance and tilt my head back. The room is huge and almost silent. The only thing that can be heard is the footsteps of members making their way to where they need to be. The tiled floor beneath my feet is polished but dull. Bookcases line some of the walls, but they seem to be decorative more than anything, because computers occupy the tables in the centre of the room and no one is reading. They stare at the screens with tense eyes, focused.  
 I continue my search, walking through corridors made of glass. I can see into every room I pass just as they can see into the rooms next to theirs. I walk upstairs and around corners, hoping to find someone that can tell me where Caleb is, then I come to a domed glass room. The floor is a light shade of gray and pillars extend fifteen feet into the air, supporting the dome. Tables line the room, eight feet from each other. Some of them are occupied, people reading, people teaching, correcting and explaining. It is then that I see my brother walk toward me.  
 He is dressed in a dark gray shirt, a grey and blue waist coat and a long blue jacket, with dark trousers and smart shoes. He may be my brother but he doesn’t look like my brother. I wrap my arms around his waist and allow myself a small smile. I feel safe until he pulls back and pushes me away.  
 “Beatrice, what are you doing here?” he asks.  
 “It’s Tris now. Is there somewhere we could talk privately? I’m in trouble.”  
He leads me away from prying eyes and ears, looking around us as we go. We come to a set of doors when he pulls me around in front of him.  
 “What happened?”  
 “I’m not gonna make it in Dauntless. I’ve had people try to kill me. Someone murdered a friend of mine and that person’s dead now.” I watch him closely to see if he’ll give any reaction to it.  
 “What? You killed someone?”  
 “Hey, it was self defence. The guy tried to kill me and killed my friend because he stood up to him. Then he had the nerve to try killing me again and I went off on one. He was still breathing when I walked away. I fought for my survival! Half of Dauntless watched it happen and done nothing about it. How can I trust the brave faction when all I’ve seen is cowardice?”  
 “You can’t go back to Abnegation, Erudite won’t allow it, and you can’t go anywhere else. You need to go back to Dauntless and face them or you’ll end up factionless.”  
 “What does Erudite have to do with it?”  
He looks around us, skipping over the faces of the people staring at us. He’s nervous, maybe not because of how he looks or because of me. Maybe it’s because of them. I notice dark circles under his eyes.  
 “Caleb, what’s going on? What’s wrong?  
 He presses his hands together, still casting glances at the people in the room. He leans in slightly.  
 “Something big is happening, Beatrice. Something is wrong.” His eyes widen. “I don’t know what it is, but people keep rushing around, talking quietly and Jeanine gives speeches about how corrupt Abnegation is all the time, almost every day.”  
 “I knew it!” I growl. “Do you believe her?”  
 “No. Maybe. I don’t...” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what to believe.”  
 “Yes, you do,” I say sternly. “You know who our parents are. You know who our friends are. Susan’s dad, you think he’s corrupt?”  
 “How much do I know? How much did they allow me to know? We weren’t allowed to ask questions or to know things! And here...” He looks up, “Here, information is free, it’s always available.”  
 “This isn’t Candor. There are liars here, Caleb. There are people who are so smart they know how to manipulate you.”  
 “Don’t you think I would know if I was being manipulated?”  
 “Not if they’re as smart as you think. I don’t think you would.”  
 “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says shaking his head.  
 “Don’t I? How could I possibly know what a corrupt faction looks like? Would you like me to tell you what I know?” I ask. I wait for his nod, “Erudite have been trying to get Dauntless to help them overthrow Abnegation for the last few months.” I watch his face go from calm to shocked and disbelieving. “Don’t give me that look! I’ve seen the plans. I know what I’m a part of, Caleb, do you? Because you are choosing to ignore what we’ve always known –these people are greedy and arrogant and they will lead you into a war.”  
 His voice hardens. “I think you should go, Beatrice.”  
 “With pleasure, brother,” I say. “Oh, and not that it will matter to you, but Mum told me to send her love to you.”  
 “You saw her?” He looks hurt. “Why didn’t she-“  
 “Because,” I say. “The Erudite don’t let the Abnegation into their compound anymore. Wasn’t that information available to you? Oh, and another thing, Erudite plan on attacking the Abnegation when initiation’s over so do us all a favour and research whatever serums they’re making for Dauntless because I know that most of the Dauntless wouldn’t attack them willingly.”  
 I push past him, walking away from the dome room. I am walking down a set of stairs when I look up to see two Erudite men with their arms folded at the bottom.  
 “Excuse me,” one of them says. “You’ll have to come with us.”  
  
 “You lay a hand on me,” I say warningly. I try to walk past them when a hand lands on my shoulder.  
I grab it and as I’m turning, I snap my right fist up fast and follow through with my left, turning my back to the other man. When he tries to stop me, I get in one hit before I hear someone shout, “Stop!”  
 I look at the balcony above me and see the woman I dislike most; Jeanine Matthews and some other Erudite. How long have I hated that face? I don’t remember.  
She questions my wellbeing and asks me to follow her. She leads me through a part of the building I haven’t seen and I see some Dauntless sitting in chairs under simulation. There are Erudite scientists taking readings from tablet computers connected to them.   
 Continuing on, we go through a set of glass double doors and into a bright white room. There are, what appears’ to be, security guards in each corner. One wall is made of glass, letting in natural light. The ceiling and walls are white, as well as the pillars supporting the roof.  
 In the centre of the room, there is a lined rug of sorts, two chairs and a small metal table. Jeanine’s assistant, I’m guessing, pours some tea into two cups.  
 “Please, sit down.” She’s polite, but I can see the curiosity in her eyes. I can see the wheels turning, trying to make sense of the situation. Her voice sounds familiar, especially when she is irritated. Her liquid gray eyes focus on mine.  
 “I’d rather not.”  
 “Sit,” she says. I have definitely heard her voice before.  
 I heard it in the hallway, talking to Eric, before I got attacked. I heard her mention Divergents. And once before –I heard it...  
 “It was your voice in the simulation,” I say. “The aptitude test, I mean.”  
 She is the danger Tori warned me about.  
 “Correct. The aptitude test is by far my greatest achievement as a scientist,” she replies. “I looked up your test results, Beatrice. Apparently there was a problem with your test. It was never recorded and your results had to be reported manually. Did you know that?”  
 “No.”  
 “Did you know that you’re one of two people ever to get an Abnegation result and switch to Dauntless?”  
 “No,” I say. I wonder who the other is.  
 “What made you choose Dauntless?” she asks.  
 “What does this have to do with anything? Aren’t you going to reprimand me for abandoning my faction and seeking out my brother? ‘Faction before blood,’ right?” I pause. “Come to think of it, why I am here, talking to you? Aren’t you supposed to be someone important or something?”  
 Maybe that will take her down a few pegs.  
 Her mouth pinches for a second. “I will leave the reprimands to Dauntless,” she says, leaning back in her chair.  
 I set my hands on the back of the chair I refused to sit in. Behind her is a window that overlooks the city. The train takes a lazy turn in the distance.  
 “As to the reason for your presence here...a quality of my faction is curiosity,” she says, “and while perusing your records, I saw there was another error with another one of your simulations. Again, it failed to be recorded. Did you know that?”  
 “How did you access my records? Only the Dauntless...” I flash back to the introduction to the fear landscape, where Four told us about the serums. “...Ah! I get it, our instructor mentioned the serums and simulations, and how the Erudite like the check up on how they’re working every once in a while.”  
 “We have an... _understanding_ with the Dauntless, Beatrice.” She tilts her head and smiles at me. “I am merely concerned for the competence of our technology. If it fails, I have to ensure that it does not continue to do so, you understand?”  
 I understand only one thing: She is lying to me. She doesn’t care about the technology –she suspects that something is awry with my results. She expects me to give something away.  
 What is so threatening about my ability to manipulate the simulations? Why would it matter at all?  
 I can’t answer either question. But the look she gives me reminds me of the look in the attack dog’s eyes in the aptitude test –a vicious, predatory stare. She wants to rip me to pieces. I won’t lie down in submission now, I am the attack dog. It’s what I’ve been trained for!  
 “I don’t know how they work,” I say, “but the liquid I was injected with made me sick to my stomach. Maybe my simulation administrator was distracted because he was worried I would throw up and he forgot to record it. I got sick after the aptitude test too.”  
 “Do you habitually have a sensitive stomach, Beatrice?” Her voice is like a razor’s edge. She taps her trimmed fingernails against her leg.  
 “Ever since I was young,” I reply as smoothly as I can. I release the chair back and sidestep it to sit down. I can’t seem tense, even though I want to wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze.  
 “You have been extremely successful with the simulations,” she says. “To what do you attribute the ease with which you complete them?”  
 I look down and chuckle. I look up and straight into her eyes, “I’m brave. I have seen death and laughed in its face.” The other factions see the Dauntless a certain way. Aggressive, impulsive, brash. My favourite? Cocky! I should be what she expects. I smirk at her. “I’m the best initiate they’ve got.”  
 I lean forward, balancing my elbows on my knees. I will have to go further with this to make it convincing.  
 “You want to know why I chose Dauntless?” I ask. “It’s because I was bored. You can see how that could affect a young girl.” I need to take it that little bit further. Lies require commitment. “I was tired of being told off for the littlest things. I wasn’t a wussy little do-gooder at heart and I wanted out.”   
 “So you don’t miss your parents?” she asks delicately.  
 “Do I miss getting scolded for looking in the mirror? Do I miss being told to shut up at the dinner table?” I shake my head. “No, I don’t. My parents aren’t my family anymore.”  
 The lie burns my throat on the way out. I picture my mother standing behind me with a comb and a pair of scissors, faintly smiling as she trims my hair, and I want to scream rather than insult her like this.  
 “Can I take that to mean...” Jeanine purses her lips and pauses for a few seconds before finishing.  
“...that you agree with the reports that have been released about the political leaders of this city?”  
 The reports that label my family as corrupt, power-hungry, moralising dictators? The reports that carry subtle threats and hint at revolution? They make me sick to my stomach. Knowing that she is the one who released them makes me wish for her face turning purple as I deprive her of oxygen.  
 I smile sardonically. I watch as her eyes go from curious and triumphant to fearful.  
 “Wholeheartedly.” I make sure to lace the word heavily with sarcasm. “Now, Jeanine, can I call you Jeanine? A little advice that might do you some good,” I grin. “Don’t fuck with the wrong people, they have a way of hitting back, harder!”

 One of Jeanine’s lackeys, a man in a blue collared shirt and sunglasses, drives me back to the Dauntless compound in a sleek silver car, the likes of which I have never seen before. The engine is almost silent. When I ask the man about it, he tells me it’s solar-powered and launches into a lengthy explanation of how the panels on the roof convert sunlight into energy. I stop listening after a minute and stare out the window.  
 I don’t know what they’ll do to me when I get back and I don’t care. I imagine my feet dangling over the chasm and I smile.  
 When the driver pulls up to the glass building above the Dauntless compound, Eric is waiting for me by the door. He takes my arms and leads me into the building without thanking the driver. Eric’s fingers squeeze so hard I know I’ll have bruises.  
 I know he’s pissed.  
 He stands between me and the door that leads inside. He starts to crack his knuckles. Other than that, he’s completely still.  
 “Welcome back, Tris.”  
 “Eric.”  
 He walks toward me, carefully placing one foot in front of the other.  
 “What...” His first word is quiet. “ _Exactly_ ,” he adds, louder this time, “were you thinking?”  
 “I...” He is so close I can see the different shades and colours in his eyes. They’re neither cold, nor warm but they’re beautiful and I get lost in them.  
 “I am tempted to call you a traitor, Tris,” he says. “Have you never heard the phrase ‘faction before blood’?”  
 I have seen Eric do some terrible things. I have heard him say terrible things. But I have never seen him like this. He is not a maniac but he is not soft; he is perfectly controlled, perfectly poised. Careful and quiet.  
 For the first time, I recognise him for what he is; a Reaper disguised as an Erudite, disguised as a Dauntless, an attack dog and genius as well as a sadist, a saviour but supposed hunter of the Divergent.  
 I want to run, to get away.  
 “Were you unsatisfied with the life you have found here? Do you perhaps regret your choice?”  
 Both his eyebrows lift, forcing creases into his forehead. “I would like to hear an explanation for why you betrayed Dauntless, yourself and me...” He taps his chest. “...by venturing into another faction’s headquarters.”  
 I take a deep breath, “No, I’m not unsatisfied with my life here. Me? Betray Dauntless?” I ask incredulously. “They betrayed me first.” I clasp my hands behind my back. “What I do regret is not letting Peter throw me into the chasm when he had the chance.” I know it will hurt him but it is the truth. His hands curl into fists. “I regret letting my friend fall to his death. I regret letting myself think that we were ever friends. I regret letting Molly hit me and I regret remembering. I regret a lot of things, Eric, but joining Dauntless has never been one of them. Joining Dauntless has been the best decision I’ve ever made. Yeah, Max pissed me off and I wanted comfort from the person who’s always been there to comfort me when times have been bad. If you haven’t been present the last few days, they’ve been the worst of my life, so excuse me for being female and turning to the only man I seem to be able to trust. I could have turned to anyone, you, Max, Aunt Raven, or Four, Will or Christina, but you, Max and Aunt Raven just disappeared one day and I didn’t see you again until I got here. I haven’t known Four, Will or Christina that long so my brother was the obvious choice.”  
 His hands come up fast, fisted and unexpectedly, and although I am not afraid of him, I flinch, involuntarily. His eyes widen and he takes a step back. He looks as shocked as I feel and I look down.  
 “Tris?” He sounds hurt. It’s the most emotion I’ve heard in his voice in a while and yet, I keep watching his feet.  
 “What?” It is barely above a whisper.  
 “Look at me, please?”   
I look up at him through my lashes and then straight back down. Why did I have to flinch? Why couldn’t I just be me? Is it paranoia from my visit with Jeanine earlier? Is it left over from when he hit me in the cafeteria? Is it because of my fears? Is it a new fear? I don’t know. I really do not know, and that’s scary.  
 My hands are beginning to shake and I know I will start crying if I don’t get away from him soon.  
It is becoming more difficult to breathe.  
 And then the door opens and Four walks in.  
 “What are you doing?” he asks Eric.  
 “Leave the room,” Eric says, his voice is louder and monotone. He doesn’t sound like Eric at all. His expression, too, changes, becomes less animated. I stare, amazed that he can turn it on and off so easily.  
 “No,” Four says. “She’s just a foolish girl. There’s no need to drag her here and interrogate her.”  
 “Just a foolish girl.” Eric snorts and then doubles over, laughing. His face is bright red and, is that tears?   
“If she were just a foolish girl, she wouldn’t be ranked first, now would she?”  
 Four pinches the bridge of his nose and looks at me through the space between his fingers.  
 “It’s alright, Four. Eric and I are almost finished here.” I smile reassuringly and look to Eric.  
 “Isn’t he a little too old for you, Tris?” Four asks.  
 “Weren’t you the one that said age doesn’t matter here, Four?” I smirk. “But no, we are not dating. We will never date. He’s Eric, I’m Tris; we’re incompatible.” I feel Eric’s eyes burn into the side of my face and grin.  
 Four leaves us be and we don’t move until his footsteps have faded.  
 “Are we done here? Can I go? Or do you want to question me some more?” I don’t look at him. I can’t look at him. I put my hands in my pockets and keep my eyes on the ground.  
 “Fine,” he says, “but you are not allowed to leave the compound without supervision again, you hear me?”  
 “Loud and clear!” I make my way toward the door.  
 “And Tris?” It’s so quiet that I barely catch it. I look over my shoulder at him, “Next time something’s bothering you, come see me?” His eyes are pleading with me and I sigh.  
 “I don’t know if I can, Eric.”  
 I leave the room and walk outside again, shaking my hands to get rid of the jitters. I sit down on the pavement and wrap my arms around my knees.  
 I don’t know how long I sit there, my head down and my eyes closed, before the door opens again. It might have been twenty minutes and it might have been an hour. Four walks toward me.  
 I stand and cross my arms, waiting for the scolding to start. I shouted at a Dauntless leader, after going ahead with the kidnapping landscape and then got myself into more trouble with the Dauntless –there has to be scolding.  
 “What?” I say.  
 “Are you all right?” A crease appears between his eyebrows and he touches my cheek gently. I bat his hand away.  
 “Well,” I say, “first I had realistic flashbacks and froze in front of everyone, and then I shouted at a Dauntless leader for shouting at the wrong person, then I had to chat with the woman who’s trying to destroy my old faction because they have something she wants, and then I flinched, _I flinched,_ in front of Eric, so yeah, it’s shaping up to be a pretty great day, Four.”  
 He shakes his head and looks at the dilapidated building to his right, which is made of brick and barely resembles the sleek glass spire behind me. It must be ancient. No one builds with brick anymore.  
 “Why do you care, anyway?” I say. “You can either be the cruel instructor or the concerned friend. You can’t play both parts at the same time.”   
 “I am not cruel.” He scowls at me. “Eric is cruel and you made me leave you with him, after you got back from another factions headquarters.”  
 I sigh deeply, trying to stop the anger mounting.  
 “Eric is many things, but he is not cruel! I don’t see the problem you have with him, I really don’t.”  
 “I had a friend, a Dauntless friend who was my instructor. Eric gave him a look, like he knew something was going to happen and a few days later, my friend was dead. Eric had something to do with it, I know he did.”   
 “Eric gives everyone looks like that, but I am telling you, Eric did not kill your friend.” I glare at him, “And he did not set it up!”  
 The corners of his mouth tug down and he gives me a grave look. “I disagree, but there’s something I need to tell you.”  
 “What is it?”  
 “Not now.” He glances around. “Meet me back here at eleven thirty. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”  
 I nod and he turns away, leaving as quickly as he came.

 

 “Where have you been all day?” Christina asks when I walk back into the dormitory. The room is empty; everyone else must be at dinner. “I looked for you outside, but I couldn’t find you. Is everything okay? Did you get into trouble for shouting at Max?”  
 I shake my head. The thought of telling her the truth about where I was makes me feel exhausted. How can I explain the impulse to hop on a train and visit my brother? Or the eerie calm in Eric’s voice as he questioned me? Or the reason that I snap at people at all?  
 “I just had to get away. I walked around for a long time,” I say. “And no, I’m not in trouble. Eric practically yelled at me and that’s it.”  
 As I speak, I’m careful to keep my eyes steady on hers and my hands still at my sides.  
 “Good,” she says. “Because I have something to tell you.”  
 She looks over my head at the door and then stands on her tiptoes to see all the bunks –checking if they’re empty, probably. Then she sets her hands on my shoulders.  
 “Can you be a girl for a few seconds?”  
 “I’m always a girl.” I frown.  
 “You know what I mean. Like a silly, annoying girl.”  
 I twirl my hair around my finger. “’Kay.”  
 She grins so wide I can see her back teeth. “Will kissed me.”  
 “What?” I demand. “When? How? What happened?”  
 “You can be a girl!” She straightens, taking her hands from my shoulders. “Well, right after your little episode, we ate lunch and then we walked around near the train track. We were just talking about...I don’t even remember what we were talking about. And then he just stopped, leaned in and...kissed me.”  
 “Did you know he liked you?” I say. “I mean, you know. Like that.”  
 “No!” She laughs. “That was the best part. We just kept walking and talking like nothing happened. Well, until I kissed him.”  
 “How long have you known you liked him?”  
 “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t. But then little things...how he put his arm around me at the funeral, how he opens doors for me like I’m a girl instead of someone who could beat the crap out of him.”  
 I laugh. Suddenly I want to tell her about the small crush I’ve been harbouring. But there are reasons why I hold back.   
 So I just say, “I’m happy for you.”  
 “Thanks,” she says. “I’m happy too. And I thought it would be a while before I could feel that way...you know.”  
 She sits down on the edge of my bed and looks around the dorm. Some of the initiates have already packed their things. They think that we’ll move into apartments on the other side of the compound when we’re finished initiation. Those with government jobs will move to the glass building above the Pit. They won’t have to look at the empty beds and remember the good times, and the bad. But that all comes after we take Jeanine down, and even then, it’s going to be tough.  
 “I can’t believe it’s almost over,” she says. “It’s like we just got here. But it’s also like...like I haven’t seen home in forever.”  
 “You miss it?” I lean into the bed frame.  
 “Yeah.” She shrugs. “Some things are the same, though. I mean, everyone at home is just as loud as everyone here, so that’s good. But it’s easier there. You always know where you stand with people, because they tell you. There’s no...manipulation.”  
 I nod. Abnegation prepared me for that aspect of Dauntless life. The Abnegation aren’t manipulative, but they aren’t forthright, either.  
 “I don’t think I could’ve made it through Candor initiation, though.” She shakes her head. “There, instead of simulations, you get lie detector tests. All day, every day. And the final test...” She wrinkles her nose. “They give you this stuff they call truth serum and sit you in front of everyone and ask you a load of really personal questions. The theory is that if you spill your secrets, you’ll have no desire to lie about anything, ever again. Like the worst about you is already in the open, so why not just be honest?”  
 I don’t know when I accumulated so many secrets. Being Divergent. A Reaper. Fears. How I really feel about my friends, my family, Al, Eric. Candor initiation would reach things that even the simulations can’t touch; it would wreck me.  
 “Sounds awful,” I say.  
 “I always knew I couldn’t be Candor. I mean, I try to be honest, but some things you just don’t want people to know. Plus, I like to be in control of my own mind.”  
 Don’t we all. But with what Erudite are planning, it’s all going to go down the drain.  
 “Anyway,” she says. She opens the cabinet to the left of our bunk beds. When she pulls the door open, a moth flutters out, its white wings carrying it toward her face. Christina shrieks so loud I almost jump out of my skin and slaps her cheeks.  
 “Get it off! Get it off get it off get it off!” she screams.  
 The moth flutters away.  
 “It’s gone!” I say. Then I laugh.  
 “They’re disgusting. Those papery wings and their stupid bug bodies...” She shudders.  
I keep laughing. I laugh so hard I have to sit down and hold my stomach.  
 “It’s not funny!” she snaps. “Well...okay, maybe it is. A little.”  


 When I find Four late that night, he doesn’t say anything; he just grabs my hand and pulls me toward the train tracks.  
 He draws himself into a train car as it passes with bewildering ease and pulls me in after him. I fall against him, my cheek against his chest. He holds me by the elbows as the car bumps along the steel rails. I watch the glass building above the Dauntless compound shrink behind us.  
 “What is it you want to tell me?” I shout over the cry of the wind.  
 “Not yet,” he says.  
 He sinks to the floor and I follow him. We are sitting with our backs against the wall. The wind pushes strands of my hair loose and tosses them over my face.  
 I hear the screech of the rails as the train slows, which means we must be nearing the middle of the city. The air is cold and wakes me up.  
 The train car wobbles and I put my hand down to steady myself.  
 “Where are we going?”   
 “You’ll see!” He says, “You know I keep forgetting to ask. I see your tattoo every day, I know it’s birds, but crows?  
 I smile. “Ravens. One for each family member I left behind.”  
 He doesn’t say anything for a while.  
 “I hate to say this,” he says, “but we have to get up.”  
 I nod and stand and he tugs me toward the open door of the train car. The wind is not as strong now that the train has slowed. It’s past midnight, so all the street lights are dark and the buildings look like giants as they rise from the darkness and then sink into it again. Four lifts a hand and points to a cluster of buildings, so far away that they are the size of a fingernail. They are the only bright spot in the dark sea around us. Erudite headquarters, again.  
 “Apparently the city ordinances don’t mean anything to them,” he says, “because their lights will be on all night.”  
 “I told you, they’re planning to overthrow Abnegation. No one else has noticed?” I ask, frowning.  
 “I’m sure they have, but they haven’t done anything to stop it. It may be because they don’t want to cause a problem over something so small.” Four shrugs, but the tension in his features shows me that he’s just as worried as I am.   
“But it makes me wonder why they need the lights on all night.”  
 He turns toward me, leaning against the wall.  
 “Two things you should know about me. The first is that I am deeply suspicious of people in general,” he says. “It is my nature to expect the worst of them. And the second is that I am unexpectedly good with computers.”  
 I nod. He said his other job was working with computers, but I have some trouble picturing him sitting in front of a computer screen all day.  
 “You were right. When you told me about the attack, I decided to do a little digging and I found a way into the Dauntless secure files. Apparently we’re not as skilled as the Erudite are at security,” he says, “and what I discovered was what looks like war plans. Thinly veiled commands, supply lists, maps, things like that, and those files were sent by Erudite.”  
 “Good! That means that you’ll help me?” I brush my hair away from my face. Listening to my father insult Erudite all my life has made me wary of them, and some of my experiences in the Dauntless compound make me wary of authority and human beings in general, so I’m not entirely sure about anything.  
 What Caleb said earlier. _Something big is happening, Beatrice_. I look up at Four.  
 “My parents will have most of them out by the end of initiation.” My stomach sinks. “But what if they don’t? There could still be kids there, innocent people!”  
 “I see all those reports for what they are now. They’re supposed to stir up dissension against Abnegation,” he says, his eyes focused on the city beyond the train car. “Evidently the Erudite now want to speed up the process. What do we do about it?”  
 And that’s when something occurs to me, something that hits me in the gut and gnaws at my insides. If I’m the only Divergent, besides Uriah that is under whatever serum they come up with, I am truly screwed. I need help.  
 “Four, you need to tell me if you’re Divergent. So far I only know of two of us, but if we’re going to take them down, we need more. They’re going to use us, Dauntless, for fighting and how is best to do that? We are their weapon and they’re going to use some sort of serum to do it.” I look at him, wide-eyed.   
 The wind blows my hair across my face, cutting my vision into strips and I leave it there.  
There’s only so much information a person can process at a time and this is going to take a while.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.  
> Apologies readers,   
>  I have had the headache from hell!  
> We’re going on day 3 now and I can’t get rid of it.  
> It won’t go away!

 I have attended Abnegation’s initiation ceremony every year except this one. It is a quiet affair. The initiates, who spend thirty days performing community service before they can become full members, sit side by side on a bench. One of the older members reads the Abnegation manifesto, which is a short paragraph about forgetting the self and the dangers of self-involvement. Then all the older members wash the initiates’ feet. They all share a meal, each person serving food to the person on his or her left.  
 The Dauntless don’t do that.  
 Initiation day plunges the Dauntless compound into insanity and chaos. There are people everywhere, and most of them are inebriated by noon. I fight my way through them to get a plate of food at lunch and carry it back to the dormitory with me. On the way I see someone fall off the path on the Pit wall and, judging by his screams and the way he grabs his leg, he broke something.  
 The dormitory, at least, is quiet. I stare at my plate of food. I just grabbed what looked good to me at the time, and now that I take a closer look, I realise that I chose plain food; a plain chicken breast, a scoop of peas and a piece of brown bread. Abnegation food.  
 I sigh. Abnegation is what I am. It is what I am when I’m not thinking about what I’m doing, or when I am put to the test. It is what I am even when I appear to be brave. Am I in the wrong faction?  
 The thought of my former faction sends a tremor through my hands. They should all be out by now.  
 I hope they’re all out.  
 I eat like a robot, rotating from chicken to peas to bread and back again. It doesn’t matter what faction I really belong in, this was chosen for me when I was a child and in two hours I will walk into my fear landscape and become Dauntless. It’s too late to turn back.  
 When I finish, I bury my face in my pillow. I don’t mean to fall asleep but after a while, I do, and I wake to Christina shaking my shoulder.  
 “Time to go,” she says. She looks ashen.  
 I rub my eyes to press the sleep from them. I have my shoes on already. The other initiates are in the dormitory, tying shoelaces and buttoning jackets and throwing smiles around like they’re not afraid of what awaits them today. I pull my hair into a bun and put on my black jacket, zipping it up to my throat. The torture will be over soon, but can we forget the simulations? Will we ever sleep soundly again, with the memories of our fears in our heads? Or will we finally forget our fears today, like we’re supposed to?  
 We walk to the Pit and up the path that leads to the glass building. I look up at the glass ceiling. I can’t see daylight because the soles of shoes cover every inch of glass above us. For a second I think I hear the glass creak, but it is just my imagination. I walk up the stairs with Christina and the crowd chokes me.  
 I am too short to see above anyone’s head, so I stare at Will’s back and walk in his wake. The heat of so many bodies around me makes it difficult to breathe. Beads of sweat gather on my forehead. A break in the crowd reveals what they are all clustered around: a series of screens on the wall to my left.  
 I head a cheer and stop to look at the screens. The screen on the left shows a black-clothed girl in the fear landscape room –Marlene. I watch her move, her eyes wide, but I can’t tell what obstacle she’s facing. Thank God no one out here will see my fears either –just my reactions to them.  
 The middle screen shows her heart rate. It picks up for a second and then decreases. When it reaches normal, the screen flashes green and the Dauntless cheer. The screen on the right shows her time.  
 I tear my eyes from the screen and jog to catch up to Will and Christina. Four stands just inside a door on the left side of the room that I barely noticed the last time I was here. It is next to the fear landscape room. I walk past him without looking at him.  
 The room is large and contains another screen, similar to the one outside. A line of people sit in chairs in front of it. Eric, Max, Julia and Jeanine take up half the seats. The others are occupied by two more Dauntless leaders and another two Erudite. They are also older. Judging by the wires connected to their heads, and their blank eyes, they are observing the simulation.  
 Behind them is another row of chairs, all occupied. I am the last to enter, so I have to stand.  
 “Hey, Tris!” Uriah calls out from across the room. He sits with the other Dauntless-born initiates.   
Only four of them are left; the rest have gone through their fear landscape already. He pats his leg.  
“You can sit on my lap, if you want.”  
 “Fine, but if you drop me, I’ll kick your ass.” I wrap an arm around his shoulders and swing my legs over his knees.  
 The lights lift in the fear landscape room, revealing Marlene in a crouch, her face streaked with tears. Max, Eric and a few others shake off the simulation daze and walk out. A few seconds later I see them on screen, congratulating her for finishing.  
 “Transfers, the order in which you will go through the final test was taken from your rankings as they now stand,” Four says. “So Drew will go first and Tris will go last.”  
 That means six people will go before I do.  
 “You gonna keep me company, Uri?” I grin.  
 “After what I have to see, I think not.”  
 “Aw, come on! Don’t be a pansy cake,” I raise an eyebrow in challenge.  
 “I ain’t no pansy cake!”  
 Four and I exchange a glance when Eric sticks Drew with the needle and sends him into the fear landscape room. By the time it’s my turn, I will know how well the others have done, and how well I will have to do to beat them.  
 The fear landscapes are not interesting to watch from the outside, so I slide off Uriah’s lap and stand against the wall. I can see that Drew is moving, but I don’t know what he is reacting to. After a few minutes, I close my eyes and try to clear my mind. Speculating about which fears I will have to face and how many there will be is useless at this point. I just have to remember that I am a Reaper and we are trained for situations like the ones I will face.  
 The initiate, _that_ initiate, goes next. It takes him half as long as it takes Drew, but even he has trouble. He spends too much time breathing heavily, trying to control his panic. At one point he even shouts at the top of his lungs.  
 It amazes me how easy it is to tune everything else out –thoughts of war on Abnegation, Four, Eric, Max, Caleb, my parents, my friends, my new faction fade away. All I can do now is get past this obstacle.  
 I don’t bother listening to the names being called and I don’t watch their reactions. I know only how much time it takes them: twelve minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. And then my name.  
 “Tris.”  
 I open my eyes and walk to the front of the observation room, where Eric stands with a syringe full of orange liquid. He doesn’t look at me, keeping his eyes on what his hands are doing. I barely feel the needle as it plunges into my neck, barely seeing Eric’s eyes as he presses the plunger down. I imagine that the serum is liquid adrenaline rushing through my veins, making me strong.  
 “Trust is yourself,” he whispers.  
 “Ready?”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.  
> Here’s another chapter.  
> I’ve had 17&18 written since Wednesday.  
> Headache is coming back, now so I’m gonna go and find pain killers and ice.  
> Enjoy!

 I am ready. I step into the room, armed not with a gun or a knife, but with the plan I made the night before. Four said that stage three is about mental preparation –coming up with strategies to overcome my fears.  
 I wish I knew what order the fears will come in. I bounce on the balls of my feet as I wait for the first fear to appear. I am already short of breath.  
 The ground beneath me changes. Grass rises from the concrete and sways in a wind I cannot feel. A green sky replaces the exposed pipes above me. I listen for the birds and feel my fear as a distant thing, a hammering heart and a squeezed chest, but not something that exists in my mind. Four told me to figure out what this simulation means. He was right; it isn’t about the birds. It’s about control.  
 Wings flap next to my ear and the crows talons dig into my shoulder.  
 This time, I smile as I wrap my hands around its neck and give a hard twist. I can feel the mania rising as I listen for the thunder of wings behind me. I remember that Jeanine is watching this and it makes my grin widen. My eyes harden and I take a deep breath. I spin on my heel, watching as the cloud descends, diving toward me. I put one foot in front of the other and I realise I am running toward them. When they swarm me, I feel no fear.   
 My heart stops racing and the field, and birds fade away.  
 I shift my weight and something squeaks beneath my foot. I crouch down and slide my hand along a cold, smooth panel –glass. I press my hands to glass on either side of my body. The tank, again. I am not afraid of drowning. This is not about the water; it is about my inability to escape the tank.  
 The blue lights come on and water slips over the floor. I slam my hand against the wall in front of me and it bounces off, causing no damage.  
 Typical. My heartbeat speeds up and I get an idea.  
 I pull my hair from the bun, letting it fall around my face. I close my eyes and stretch my arms out until they hit the glass in front of me. I am Divergent and I can manipulate the simulation. I imagine the glass is extremely thin, like ice recently formed over a puddle and start tapping out a beat.  
 “Cut my life into pieces, this is my last resort. Suffocation, no breathing. Don’t give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding!”  
 The water has reached my knees. “This is my last resort.”  
I can no longer hear the rush of blood moving through my ears. And then the dark returns.  
 I try to shake out my hands, but they are bound tightly to my sides. I look down and see rope wrapped around my chest, my arms, and my legs. A stack of logs rises around my feet and I see a pole behind me.   
 I have never faced this fear before, and that’s what’s terrifying.  
 People creep out of the shadows and their faces are familiar. They are initiates and instructors, carrying torches and Peter is at the front of the pack. His eyes look like black pits and he wears a smirk that spreads too wide across his face, forcing wrinkles into his cheeks. A laugh starts somewhere in the middle of the crowd and rises as voice, after voice joins it. Cackling is all I hear.  
 As the cackling grows louder and I watch as Peter lowers his torch toward the wood.  
 “But you’re dead!” I tell him. I am not afraid in this situation, just confused.  
 I feel my brows pulled together as flames leap up near the ground. They flicker at the edges of each log and then creep over the bark. I don’t struggle against the ropes. Instead I close my eyes and gulp as much air as I can and then I laugh. Because this is a simulation and it can’t hurt me. The heat from the flames rises around me and I laugh harder.  
 “Smell that, Stiff?” Peter says his voice louder than even the cackling.  
 “No,” I say. The flames are getting bigger, working their way up the ropes, burning into my clothes.  
 He sniffs. “That’s the smell of your burning flesh.”  
That pisses me off. I barely feel the pain as the fire licks its way up my arms, rage pushing it to the back of my mind. My arms twitch and I want to fight against the ropes, but I have to wait another few seconds.  
 I stare through the flames at Peter; the heat has nothing to do with the blood rushing to the surface of my skin, that’s all anger.  
 I lean back against the post, keeping my eyes on him. Just as he starts to turn back to the others, I push myself forward with as much force as I can manage, snapping the ropes and launching myself through the flames at him.  
 The room goes dark again and I smooth down my shirt. When I look up, I stand a few feet away from the chasm. Looking around, I see a large crowd of Dauntless and then I hear skin beating against skin. This is a new fear, too.  
 I glance over my left shoulder to see a faceless dauntless man, beating Christina up for no apparent reason. My body whips around and I see Will taking a beating from another.   
 Cold drops down my spine like a bead of sweat and my body goes rigid. Not only did I have to go into Lauren’s kidnapping landscape, I have to relive a friend dying.  
 I stare, in shock, as Christina is slammed against the railing and her scream propels me forward.   
 I charge him, protecting her from his blows. ‘ _Trust in yourself’,_ runs through my mind as I duck, dodge and dive away from his fists. I look for weaknesses and don’t see any so, a full frontal assault will have to do.  
 He takes another swing and I stop the advancement with my left forearm. I grab his wrist with both hands and turn into him, my back to his chest. I lean forward, pulling him up and over, and Christina helps me toss him over the railing. I stomp on his fingers and as he lets go, I hear Will cry out.  
 The man he was fighting has him by the throat and is dangling him over the chasm. Will fingers grasp and claw at the man’s forearm. I turn to find that Christina has gone into the crowd and I can’t see her at all.  
 When I look at Will again, his face has turned a dark shade of red and he seems to be losing consciousness. I run toward the man and give him a punch to the temple. He lets go of Will and I reach out as far as I can, hoping and praying that he has enough wits about him that he can reach me.  
 I am slammed against the railing, my ribs crying out in pain, when a hand grabs mine. I breathe a sigh of relief and hook my leg around a crossbar.  
 “Come on, Will!” I bite my lower lip so hard I taste blood.  
 “Nah, Tris, just let me go!” His eyes beg.  
 “You are not dying today. You are not dying where Al died and you are not dying on my watch so get your stubborn ass up here or so help me, I will bring you back from the dead just to kill you again! Much slower this time though.” I feel stronger, even though I’ve been holding onto him for longer than I thought I could.   
 He swings his legs up, catching the ledge and wraps his other arm around the lowest crossbar.  
 “Today, you asshole!” He looks me in the eyes and nods. I heave back and pull him up toward me, helping him over the railing.  
 We’re back on solid ground, staring at the crowd.  
 “Cowards,” I shout, and the room goes dark.  
  
 I am standing in the Pit, staring at my feet. Someone grabs my hand and forces something cool and smooth into it. When I look, I see a gun. My eyes continue upward and I see my family and friends standing separate from each other, talking amongst themselves. I feel the cool metal of a gun muzzle at my temple. This is the fear I was dreading. I cannot kill my family and I will not kill my friends.  
 “Choose.” The voice comes from where the gun at my temple is.  
 My heartbeat picks right back up and I feel dizzy when I turn to see Jeanine, arm outstretched. The gun is aimed at my forehead now.   
 “No!” My voice is hard. She pushes the gun into my forehead, forcing me to move my head back a little.  
 “ _Choose!”_ she repeats. Her tone is cold.  
 “I will not fire this weapon into a crowd of unarmed people, faction, family or not! So I guess you’re just going to have to kill me, if you think you can,” I smirk.  
 I remember the fear in her eyes as I sat across from her in the Erudite headquarters and my smirk turns into a grin.  
 “Here at Dauntless, we are taught to protect those who cannot protect themselves and right now, they cannot protect themselves. _I will not shoot them!_ You, however, are holding me at gunpoint and are threatening me. We are also taught to neutralise the threat, so tell me Jeanine...” I chuckle, “...are you going to shoot me, or am I going to shoot you? In this world, it’s kill or be killed.”  
I raise the weapon as fast as I can, taking a shooting stance and pull the trigger before she has time to blink. Boom! Head shot.  
  The room doesn’t go dark this time and I wander over to the doors that lead to the dorms.   
 Taking a deep breath, I leave it all behind me. I forgot something, and I obviously can’t remember it.    
  And then Eric is standing in front of me.  
 But I am not afraid of him. He gently takes my hand and pulls me away from the Pit.  
 “What’s going on, Eric?” He keeps walking and doesn’t answer.  
 “Hey, asshole! What is going on?”  
 “Do you trust me, Tris?” He stops and turns to me, putting his hands on my shoulders, looking down into my eyes. I stare up at him, paralysed. He smiles down at me. It looks kind and familiar.  
 I raise my eyebrows, “Are you kidding me? You slap me in the middle of the dining hall and then you have the cheek to ask!”  
 He puts a finger under my chin, lifts and presses his mouth to mine. I push him away. Eric would _never_ try that.  
 “What the fuck?” I screech. He tries again and I turn my face away. His grip becomes tight as he forces me to look at him, he leans in and my leg swing forward and up. He crumples to the ground, “Try that again and your little dude will be the least of your worries, got it?” He nods.  


 The lights come on and I stand alone in an empty room with the concrete walls, shaking with mildly constrained anger.  
 Every muscle in my body is tense and my chest is heaving.   
 The door opens and I see the smile on Max’s face, but I can’t stay here right now. I need to get away from this room and the crowd outside of it. I need to do something that I can fully control, so I sprint past Max, Four, Jeanine and a few people I don’t know. I don’t see Eric and I am not looking for him. I am in an ocean of black. I force my way through the cheering crowd, pushing past people, using my elbows to make them move.  
 I don’t look where I’m going. I just go where my legs carry me.  
 And then I run into a wall.  
 I don’t even glance at them to see who it is. I scramble to my feet, push past them and keep running. I hear them shout after me but I don’t respond.  


 I throw open a door and feel a breeze on my face. I am on a roof, the roof across from the one we jumped onto from the train. I step out into the light and take as deep a breath as I can manage. I pull up my sleeve and check the battery charger on my arm. It shows a green light, meaning my comms device should be fully charged. I can’t see the one behind my ear because, well that’d be pretty impossible without a mirror.  
 I remove the supply and pull out the small control for the devices under my skin. Activating them, I hear Max telling all Reapers to be on the lookout for me. Seven through ten must have been activated within the last week, meaning we have more Reapers and shit’s about to go down.  
  
 In my experience, they only activate people when they’re needed. Last time, they needed six Reapers because the Erudite were getting too close and we needed the back up. There should be more of us but, because of the warnings after the aptitude test, I’m guessing, some people have learned to dupe the system and get through their fear simulations without a hitch.  
 I look around me at the city. It is beautiful, in a death and rebirth kind of way. You have the half-destroyed buildings, the really old but still standing buildings and then you have the new, refurbished and used buildings. It tells a story of hard times been and gone. But it also tells the story of how we pulled through and rebuilt our society.  
 If they’ve activated the other four Reapers that means Jeanine’s going ahead with her plans. 

 And that means it’s time for war!   



	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
>  I’m just messing around with it.  
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter.  
> Especially the ending.  
> I hope you enjoy it too!  
> It’s a cliffy =D

 In the Pit and I see four lines of people, others injecting them with something. Eric claims it’s a tracking device, in case anyone goes missing. I scan the crowd for Four and can’t see him anywhere. Eric approaches me.  
 “Congratulations,” he smiles, but it is cold. I know it’s for show, but it’s kinda of scary. “You should be first in line, but I’ll make it easy for you.” He lifts his hand to show the device. It’s metal and really weird considering they use normal syringes for everything else. He moves a piece of hair out of the way and stealthily tucks something into my collar then injects me.  
 It hurts; they don’t usually hurt like that. It’s like getting stabbed with a knife, a very small, very thin, very fast knife and we all know I’m somewhat familiar with that.   
 “Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?”   
 “Seriously? That’s all you have to say about that?” I scowl, “You’re an asshole, Eric!”  
 “Welcome to Dauntless, Stiff!” He grins and walks away.

An hour later and everyone’s in the dining hall. I run to the table I share with Will and Christina.  
 “Where did you go?” asks Christina. “Everyone else went back to the dormitory.”   
 “The anger I felt after my landscape was intense so I ran it off. Then I bumped into, none other than Eric,” I say.  
 “I’m not even going to ask,” Christina says, shaking her head. “I turned around to talk to Will for one second and you were already done.”  
 I detect a hint of jealousy in her voice and I wish I could explain what I am and how that helps. Instead I just shrug.  
 “What job are you going to pick?” I ask her.  
 “I’m thinking I might want a job like Four’s. Training initiates,” she says. “Scaring the living shit out of them. You know, the really fun stuff. What about you?”  
 “I haven’t actually thought about it. I was too focused on making it through initiation that it didn’t cross my mind until now. I don’t know, leader-in-training or an ambassador to the other factions.”  
 “Question,” says Christina, leaning forward. “Eric stormed out of there so fast when you were done.”  
 “Oh?” I bite my lip hard.  
 “Any idea which obstacle it was?” she asks.  
 “Yep!” I pop the ‘p’.  
 “You know you don’t have to tell if you don’t want to.” She raises her eyebrow like she’s challenging me.  
 “Okay, fine. I’m afraid of someone bigger and stronger than me trying to force themselves on me. Happy?”  
 “You mean...” Christina ponders. “...rape?”  
 I tense up and force myself to nod.  
 “Don’t worry, I get it. It won’t ever happen to you though. You can take Eric down, there’s no way someone would be able to do that to you.”  
 A microphone squeals somewhere, so loud I clap my hands over my ears. I look across the room at Max, who stands on one of the tables with the microphone in hand, tapping it with his fingertips.  
After the tapping is done and the crowd is quiet, Max clears his throat and begins.  
 “We aren’t big on speeches here so I’ll get to the point,” he says. “It’s a new year and we have a new pack of initiates. And a slightly smaller pack of new members. We offer you, our new members of Dauntless our congratulations.  
 At the word ‘congratulations’ the room erupts, not into applause, but into the pounding of fists on tabletops. The noise vibrates in my chest and I grin.  
 “We believe in bravery. We believe in taking action. We believe in freedom from fear and in acquiring the skills to force the bad out of our world so that the good can prosper and thrive. If you also believe in those things, we welcome you.”  
 There is a double meaning to his words and I know exactly what he’s saying. We have to go to war, to force the bad out of our world, by any means necessary. That is what I believe in and I find myself smiling.  
 “Tomorrow, in their first act as members, our top fifteen initiates will choose their professions, in the order of how they are ranked,” Max says. He turns and point to a screen, “The rankings...”  
 As soon as the word leaves his mouth the names appear on the screen, which is almost as large as the wall itself. Next to the number one is my picture, and the name ‘Tris.’  
 A weight lifts in my chest. I didn’t realise it was there until it was gone and I didn’t have to feel it anymore. I smile and a tingling spreads through me. First. Divergent or not, this faction is where I belong.  
 Christina points at the screen, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

  1.        Tris
  2.        Uriah
  3.        Lynn
  4.        Marlene
  5.        Sarah
  6.        Will
  7.        Christina



 I smile and Christina reaches across the table to hug me. I am too distracted to protest against the affection. She laughs in my ear.  
 Someone grabs me from behind and shouts in my ear. It’s Uriah. I can’t turn around, so I reach back and squeeze his shoulders.  
 “Congratulations!” I shout.  
 “We did it!” he shouts back. He releases me, laughing and runs into a crowd of Dauntless-born initiates.  
 I crane my neck to look at the screen again. I follow the list down.  
 Thirteen, fourteen and fifteen are Dauntless-borns whose names I barely recognise.  
 Sixteen is Drew.  
 Drew has been cut. Drew who was knocked out while Peter was fighting with Al. I need to know the name of the other initiate, but I see Christina and will kiss, a little too sloppy for my taste. All around me is the pounding of Dauntless fists. Then I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Four standing behind me. I get up, beaming.  
 “You think giving you a hug would be too much?” he says.  
 “You know, I don’t actually care.” I throw my arms around his shoulders and pull him in, I whisper, “We’re going to war tonight. So you’d better act like everyone else or they’ll put a bullet in your head.” I smile as I say it, “We need to pretend, just until we’re out of here because they’ve got Erudite looking over their shoulders and Erudite won’t let any of us walk away if were found out.”  
 I pull away from him and look around us.  
 “Tris?” he says, confused.  
 I shake my head. “Not now, later.”   
 He nods and disappears into the crowd who have started singing out a tune and clapping. I know this song. I heard it while Tori was tattooing the FEAR tattoo on my ribcage.  
 “When Rome’s in ruins, we are the lion free of the coliseum. In poisoned places, we are anti-venom. We’re the beginning of the end.”  
 I look to Max, “Tonight, the foxes the hounds. It’s all over now, before it has begun and we’ve already won.  
 “We are wild. We are like young volcanoes. We are wild, Americana exotica. Do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby? Yeah.”  
 A different Dauntless girl starts the next verse.  
 “Come on, make it easy. Say I never mattered, run it up the flagpole. We will teach you how to make boys next door out of assholes.”  
 I join her, “Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds. It’s all over now, before it has begun and we’ve already won.   
 “We are wild. We are like young volcanoes. We are wild, Americana exotica. Do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby? Yeah.” We leave the crowd to sing the rest and it is loud. Extremely loud!

I try to get Four alone afterward, but the crowd of initiates and members is too thick and the force of their congratulations pulls me in the opposite direction.  
 I get back to the dormitory and remove my jacket when a piece of paper falls from it. I remember Eric putting it there.

  _Tris, you weren’t injected with the same thing as them. If everything goes south and you find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of, suicide will bring everything down._  
  The city is wired to blow if your heart stops, so please, don’t get killed unless it’s your very last option.  
 Anything you see on your journey out of the compound is a set-up, it’s not real.  
   Eric.

 I decide to sneak out of the dormitory after everyone is asleep and find Four, but I remember that everything starts tonight. I try to stay awake but the fear landscape and running afterwards exhausted me more than I realised, so soon enough, I drift off too.  
 I am woken just before midnight with a siren in my ear. Max and his annoying wake-up calls. I hear squeaking and shuffling feet. It’s too dark for me to see clearly, but as my eyes adjust, I see that Christina is tying her shoelaces. I open my mouth to ask what she’s doing but then I notice that across from me, Will is putting on a shirt. Everyone is awake, but everyone is silent.  
 I fumble for my shoes. I can’t stay here, I need to be out there with them, seeing what’s going on. I tie my shoes in a hurry, pull on a jacket and sprint out of the room, catching up to the line of initiates quickly, conforming my pace to theirs. It takes a few seconds to realise that they move in unison, the same foot forward as the same arm swings back. I mimic them as best I can, but the rhythm feels strange to me.  
 We march toward the Pit, but when we reach the entrance, the front of the line turns left. Max stands in the hallways, watching us. My heart hammers in my chest and I stare as vacantly as possible ahead of me, focusing on the rhythm of my feet. I tense as I pass him and see that he gives me a minute nod.  
 We climb a flight of stairs and travel at the same rhythm down four corridors. Then the hallway opens up to a huge cavern. Inside it is a crowd of Dauntless.  
 There are rows of tables with mounds of black on them. I can’t see what the piles are until I am a foot away from them. Guns.  
 Of course. Eric said every Dauntless was injected yesterday. So now the entire faction is brain-dead, obedient and trained to kill. Perfect soldiers.  
 One man wanders around in panic, asking everyone what’s going on. Either he doesn’t know he’s Divergent or he’s in on Eric’s plan. Eric steps out of the shadows and walks towards him. He removes the gun from his holster and fires a round into the man’s chest. The gunshot echoes and hurts my ears. I see blood spread but I also see that the man’s clothing around the ‘wound’ are shredding outward. I don’t know what device would’ve done that.  
 I pick up a gun and a holster, and a belt, copying Will, who is directly in front of me. I try to match his movements, but I can’t predict what he’s going to do, so I end up fumbling more than I’d like to. I grit my teeth. I just have to trust that no one is watching me, and if they are, I have to hope that Eric or Max distracts them enough that I can get past.  
 Once I’m armed, I follow Will and the other initiates toward the exit.  
 I already know the path I must take and I need to get to Four for help.  
 The line of initiates passes into a dark hallway. I can’t see Will ahead of me, or anything ahead of him. My foot hits something hard and I stumble, my hands outstretched. My knee hits something else –a step. I straighten, so tense my teeth are almost chattering. They didn’t see that. It’s too dark. It has to be too dark.  
 As the staircase turns, light flows into the cavern, until I can finally see Will’s shoulder in front of me again. I focus on matching my rhythm to his as I reach the top of the stairs, passing another Dauntless leader. Now I know that the Dauntless leaders are awake, they are the only people that are.  
 Well, not the only people. I am awake because I’m Divergent. If I am awake, that means the Reapers and Four are, too.  
 I have to find him.  
 I stand next to the train tracks in a group that stretches as far as I can see with my peripheral vision. The train is stopped in front of us, every car open. One by one, my fellow initiates climb into the train car in front of us.  
 I can’t turn my head, that’d give me away. So, I let my eyes skirt to the sides, looking for Four. The faces on my left are unfamiliar, but I see a tall boy with short hair a few yards to my right. It might not be him and I can’t make sure, but it’s the best chance I have. I don’t know how to get to him without attracting attention. I have to get to him.  
 The car in front of me fills up and Will turns toward the next one. I take my cues from him, but instead of stopping where he stops, I slip a few feet to the right. The people around me are taller than I am; they will shield me. I step to the right again, clenching my teeth. Too much movement. They will catch me.  
 A blank-faced Dauntless in the next car offers a hand to the boy in front of me, and he takes it, his movements robotic. I take the next hand without looking at it and climb as gracefully as I can into the car.  
 I stand facing the person who helped me. My eyes twitch up, just for a second, to see his face. Four, as blank-faced as the rest of them. Was he lying? Is he not Divergent? Is he just a really good actor?  
 People crowd into the car around me, so we stand in four rows, shoulder-to-shoulder. And then something peculiar happens; a palm presses to mine and fingers wrap around the back of my hand. Four, holding my hand.   
 My entire body is alive with energy, I have help. I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. He is awake and, may I say, a damn good actor.  
 I want to look at him, but I force myself to stand still and keep my eyes forward as the train starts to move. He moves his thumb back and forth over the inside of my wrist. It is meant to comfort me, but it frustrates me. I need to talk to him, find out what he knows.  
 I can’t see where the train is going because the girl in front of me is so tall, so I stare at the back of her head and focus on Four’s hand in mine until the rails squeal. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there but my back aches, so it must have been a long time. The train screeches to a stop and my hearts pounds so hard it’s difficult to breathe.  
 Right before we jump down from the car, I see Four turn his head in my periphery and I glance back at him. His dark eyes are insistent as he says, “Run.”  
 “No,” I say.  
 I look straight ahead again and jump down from the train car when it’s my turn. Four walks in front of me. I should focus on the back of his head, but the streets I walk now are familiar and the line of Dauntless I follow fades from my attention. I pass the place I went every six months with my mother to pick up new clothes for our family; the bus stop where I once waited in the morning to get to school; the strip of sidewalk so cracked Caleb and I played a hopping, jumping game to get across it.  
 They are all different now. The buildings are dark and empty. The roads are packed with Dauntless soldiers, all marching the same rhythm except the officers, who stand every few hundred yards, watching us walk by or gathering in clusters to discuss something. No one seems to be doing anything. Are we really here for war?  
 I walk half a mile before I get an answer to that question.  
 I start to hear popping sounds. I can’t look around to see where they’re coming from, but the farther I walk, the louder and sharper they get until I recognise them as gunshots. I clench my jaw. I must keep walking; I have to stare straight ahead.  
 Far ahead of us, I see a Dauntless soldier push a gray-clothed man to his knees. I recognise him –he is a council member. The soldier takes her gun out of her holster and, with sightless eyes, fires a bullet into the back of the council member’s skull.  
 The soldier has a gray streak in her hair. It’s Tori. My steps almost falter.  
  _Keep walking_. My eyes burn. _Keep walking_.  
 We march past Tori and the fallen council member. When I step over his hand, I almost burst into tears.  
 Then the soldiers in front of me stop walking, and so do I. I stand as still as I can, but all I want to do is find Jeanine and shoot her in front of everyone. My hands are shaking and I can’t do anything to stop it. I breathe quickly through my nose.  
 Why was I chosen for this? Why do I have to witness my friends unknowingly murder innocent people? Why did I tell Eric to tell Max to go ahead with it? This is killing me and I can’t do anything about it, yet.  
 Another gunshot. From the corner of my left eye, I see a gray blur collapse to the pavement. Every person that stayed behind will die if this continues.  
 The Dauntless soldiers carry out unspoken orders without hesitation and without question. Some members of Abnegation are herded toward one of the nearby buildings. I don’t see any children and I hope, against all odds, that my parents got them all out. A sea of black-clothed soldiers, guard the doors. The only other people I do not see are the Abnegation leaders. Either they got out, or they’re already dead.  
 One by one, the Dauntless soldiers in front of me step away to perform one task or another. Soon the non-Divergent leaders will notice that whatever signals everyone else is getting, I’m not getting them. What will I do when that happens?  
 “This is insane,” coos a male voice on my right. I see a black earring and gray eyes. Eric. He pokes my cheek with his index finger and I struggle against the impulse to attack him.  
 “They really can’t see us? Or hear us?” a female voice asks.  
 “Oh, they can see and hear. They just aren’t processing what they see and hear the same way,” says Eric. “Take Tris here, for example. She receives a command, not from our computers, but from me or Max? She’ll carry it out seamlessly. Won’t you?” At this, he presses his fingers to the injection site to show the woman something. _Stay still_ , I tell myself. _Still, still, still_. “The others, however, were injected here with transmitters and receive commands from our computers.”  
 Eric shifts a step to the side and leans close to Four’s face, grinning.  
 “Now, this is a happy sight,” he says. “The legendary Four. No one’s going to remember that I came in second now, are they? No one’s going to ask me, ‘What was it like to train with the guy who only has _four fears_?’” He draws his gun and points it at Four’s right temple. My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my skull. He can’t shoot; he wouldn’t. Eric tilts his head. “Think anyone would notice if he accidentally got shot?”  
 “Go ahead,” the woman says, sounding bored. She’s not Julia, so I don’t know who she is. “He’s nothing now.”  
 “Too bad you didn’t just take Max up on his offer, Four. Well, too bad for you, anyway,” says Eric quietly as he clicks the bullet into its chamber.  
 My lungs burn; I haven’t taken a breath in almost a minute. I see Four’s hand twitch in the corner of my eye, but my hand is already on my gun. I press the barrel to Eric’s forehead. His eyes widen and his face goes slack, and for a second, he looks like another sleeping Dauntless soldier.  
 My index fingers hovers over the trigger.  
 “Get your gun away from his head and I won’t kill either of you,” I say.  
 “You won’t shoot me,” Eric replies. I can’t murder him, not after everything that’s happened and all that we stand to gain. But I hear an order in there meaning, ‘You had better shoot me!’  
 “You’re seriously overestimating my character. I won’t kill you now, Eric,” I grin, “but don’t think for a second that I won’t shoot you!” I shift my arm down, firing into his leg. He screams and grabs his leg. I pull a knife from my pocket and launch it into the woman’s forehead before she can do anything. I grab Four’s arm and sprint.  
 If we can make it to the alley, we can disappear into the buildings and they won’t find us. We’re closer to Sector six than I thought. There are a hundred and fifty yards to go. I hear footsteps behind us, but I don’t look back. Four grabs my hand and squeezes, pulling me forward, faster than I have ever run, faster than I can run. I stumble behind him and then I hear a gunshot.  
 The pain is sharp and sudden, beginning in my shoulder and spreading outward with electric fingers. A scream stops in my throat and I fall, my cheek scraping the pavement. I lift my head to see Four’s knees by my face and yell, “Run!”  
 His voice is calm and quiet as he replies, “No, we’re in this together.”  
 In seconds we are surrounded. Four helps me up, supporting my weight. I feel the adrenaline kick in and stand up straight as Dauntless soldiers surround us and point their guns.  
 “Divergent rebels,” Eric says, standing on one foot. His face is a sickly white. “Surrender your weapons.”  
 I can’t stop the laugh. Remembering Eric’s note, I double over, holding my stomach as I cry laughing. When I get myself under control, I see a few others that are awake and they are looking at me as if I’m crazy. I take a deep breath as I look at them and their facial expressions make me laugh again.  
 Finally, I calm down. I look every single one of them in the eyes, leaving Eric for last.  
 “Honey,” I smirk, “I am a weapon!”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own the Divergent series.  
> I’m just messing around with it.  
> This chapter is long overdue and I apologise for not having it up sooner.  
> I got distracted by Teen Wolf ff.  
> Oh, and my son decided it'd be fun to give himself a spiral fracture in his femur.  
> That was chaos!
> 
> Enjoy!!

 I take my jacket off and rip a sleeve off of my shirt. I place it over the gunshot wound and Four tightens it enough the stem the bleeding. A gun barrel presses to my spine and I turn, grabbing it and pointing it upwards.  
 “That’s not nice dick-bag,” I laugh. “If you shoot me and my heart stops beating, this whole city goes boom!” He assesses my body language.  
 “She’s not pretending!” There’s panic in his eyes now.  
 “I suggest you take me to Jeanine and the other leaders, now, or I’ll put a bullet in my own brain,” I tell them.  
They keep their guns trained on us, but someone calls for the leaders’ attention. It takes around five minutes to get from where we are, through the front doors of Abnegation headquarters, a plain gray building, two stories high. I’m not afraid of what’s coming; I’m already planning for it.  
  
 A gun barrel pushes me toward a door guarded by two Dauntless soldiers. I walk through it and enter a plain office that contains just a desk, a computer and two empty chairs. Jeanine sits behind the desk, a phone against her ear.  
 “Well, send some of them back on the train, then,” she says. “It needs to be well guarded, it’s the most important part –I’m not talk –I have to go.” She snaps the phone shut and focuses her gray eyes on me. They remind me of melted steel and I grin, showing my teeth.  
 “Divergent rebels,” one of the Dauntless says. He must be a Dauntless leader –or maybe a recruit who was removed from the simulation. “This one claims that if she dies, we all die too.”  
“Well, I don’t know, I’ve always been a bit of a rebel,” I chuckle.  
 “You mean to tell us that you have the city wired with explosives, connected to your heartbeat?” A Dauntless leader asks.  
 “Yep! Why’s that so hard to believe? Do I look like I’m kidding?” I raise an eyebrow and stare him down.    
  Jeanine takes off her glasses, folds them and sets them on the desk. She probably wears the glasses out of vanity rather than necessity, because she thinks they make her look smarter –my father said so.  
 “You,” she says pointing at me, “I expected. All the trouble with your aptitude test results made me suspicious from the beginning. But you...”  
 She shakes her head as she shifts her eyes to Four.  
 “You, Tobias –or should I call you Four? –managed to elude me,” she says quietly. “Everything about you checked out: test results, initiation simulations, everything. But here you are nonetheless.” She folds her hands in front of her and sets her chin on top of them. “Perhaps you could explain to me how that is?”  
 “You’re the genius,” he says coolly. “You tell me!”  
 Her mouth curls into a smile. “My theory is that you really do belong in Abnegation. That your Divergence is weaker.”  
 She smiles wider. Like she’s amused. I grit my teeth and consider killing her now, but I want to see where this goes.  
 “Your powers of deductive reasoning are stunning,” spits Four. “Consider me awed.”  
 I look sideways at him. I have never seen this side of him –the part that is more likely to explode than to lie down and die.  
 “Now that your intelligence has been verified, you might want to get on with killing us. You have a lot of Abnegation leaders to murder, after all.” Four closes his eyes.  
 “That’s not going to work for me,” I tell him.  
 “Take him to the control room and have him prepared.” She waves them away and Four is escorted out of the room. I watch as he struggles against the people holding him. “Why not?” Jeanine asks me.   
 “’Why not,’ what?”  
 “Why doesn’t killing you work for you?”  
 “Let’s just say that...” I glance up at the ceiling, “...if you don’t let me leave with my life intact, I blow this fucking city up and see how much of society actually survives it.”  
 “You can’t do that,” she shakes her head and grins.  
 “Oh? You think so?” I laugh. “Do you remember what I told you the last time I spoke to you?”  
 “Yes,” she nods.  
 “So you remember me, telling you not to fuck with certain people because they will hit back, harder? Good! And did you know that one of my results were Erudite?” I look down at my hands. “And these,” I lift my hands and wave them in front of her, “are very good with explosives. Did you know that it took me a whole night to plant explosives in certain parts of the city? Or that if my heartbeat drops below a certain level, the whole city goes boom?”  
 “You wouldn’t!” She insists.  
 “How many people are going to tell me that I won’t do something, and yet, they’re surprised when I do it? I’m thinking you should probably kill me right about now; see how long it takes for my heart to stop beating. You’re into science, right? How long do you think it’d take? Because after my heart stops beating, every person within this cities walls, dies.” I smile as wide as I can. “Do I look like I’m lying? Because I’m all for the idea, you know? If we’re being hunted, all I have to do is commit suicide and the whole city goes with me. It’s pretty fascinating, don’t you think? A chain reaction. You push me, I die, the explosives activate then detonate, everything goes boom and everyone dies.” My gaze turns predatory, “I’ll tell you what I told Eric.” I pause for effect, “I am a weapon and if I’m not allowed to leave here in the next two minutes, with my weapons, unharmed, without an escort or followers, I will commit suicide by any means necessary and bring your pretty little city down around you!” I giggle, “How does that sound?”  
 She smiles fearfully and stands smoothly.  
 “You think you can outsmart me?” She asks.   
 “Oh, no, I don’t. I just think you’re not as smart as you claim to be.” The door opens behind me and someone places ‘explosives’ onto the desk in front of me. I look at them and let out a sharp bark of laughter. “And I’m not as stupid as you think I am. These...” I lift one and turn it. Throwing it in the air, I see a couple of Dauntless move forward, fear in their eyes. “...are the first lot of decoys. How many decoys are there? I don’t know, I can’t remember, but it was a lot. We had to make several trips back to the explosives locker and that was real explosives. Did you know that Dauntless has a hidden weapons room? Guess what I found? A nuclear bomb.” The mania is rising again. I need to believe this is all completely real and true. “Oh man, if you don’t find that before I die, the whole city becomes wasteland. Imagine the effects of the radiation on the surrounding areas, that’d cause a lot of damage. The Dauntless leaders aren’t the only crazy people out there. I happen to have a nuke in my possession and no one can do a thing about it, so yeah.” I have been bluffing the entire way through this. There is no nuclear weapon, but you gotta do what you gotta do.  
 “You really have a nuclear weapon?” A Dauntless traitor asks.  
 “Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”  
 “And I thought Eric was bad.” He spews.  
“I am not cold or heartless and I will not activate that bomb unless it’s absolutely necessary. You see, I know that some people cannot be reasoned with, like Jeanine and yourself here. So I need to make sure I have the upper hand and in this case, I do. I don’t want to die, but I will if I have to.”  
I am given my weapons back. It was too easy, way too easy. I wait for her to make the call and as I leave the room, I turn back to Jeanine and smile innocently, “Erudite will be the first compound to go. Pleasure doing business with you. Next time it happens, I’ll watch the light leave your eyes.” I step through the threshold and everything goes black.

 I wake in the dark, wedged in a hard corner. The floor beneath me is smooth and cold. I touch my throbbing head and liquid slips across my fingertips. Crimson –blood. When I bring my hand back down, my elbow hits a wall. Where am I?  
 A light flickers above me. The bulb is blue and dim when it’s lit. I see the walls of a tank around me and my shadowed reflection across from me. The room is small, with concrete walls and no windows, and I am alone in it. Well, almost –a small video camera is attached to one of the concrete walls.  
 I see a small opening near my feet. Connected to it is a tube and connected to the tube, in the corner of the room, is a huge tank.  
 I’m not in a simulation this time.  
 My right arm is numb. When I push myself out of the corner, I see a pool of blood where I was sitting. I can’t panic now. I stand, leaning against a wall and breathe. The worst thing that can happen to me now is that I drown in this tank. I press my forehead to the glass and laugh. That is the worst thing I can imagine.  
 If I refuse to give up now, it will look brave to whoever watches me with that camera, but sometimes it isn’t fighting that’s brave, it’s facing the death you know is coming. I’m not afraid of dying, but I don’t want to die here, in this thing. I want to die a different way, on my terms.  
 It is better to scream than cry, so I scream and slam my heel into the wall behind me. My foot bounces off and I kick again, so hard my heel throbs.   
 Water trickles into the bottom of the tank.  
 The video camera means they’re watching me –no, studying me, as only the Erudite would. To see if my reaction in reality matches my reaction in the simulation. To prove that I am a coward.  
 I uncurl my fists and drop my hands. I lift my head and stare at the camera until my vision narrows and it is all I see. Water tickles my ankles and I dig into my pocket for the comms controller. I reset the settings to all frequencies and lift my left hand to my left ear. I don’t feel pain, or hunger, or fear, or anything other than numb.  
 “All units, this is Reaper three,” I sigh. “My apologies, but it seems our city is coming to an end sooner than we thought.” The water caresses its way up my calves and reaches my knees. “I am currently trapped in a water tank, being studied by the Erudite and there are bombs planted all over the city, set to go off when my heart stops.” I pause. The water is at my waist and I don’t know what to say. “Some are set to go off sooner, as a chain reaction of sorts. If my heartbeat drops below a certain point, the first explosion will take place, and so on. So, can someone tell me,” my voice gets louder and louder, “why, in the fuck, I am in this situation?”  
 Chaos breaks out over the comms and I can barely hear myself think because of it. I mean, I’m just about to die here and they’re all arguing over how to get out of the city. Who does that?  
 I breathe in. The water will wash my wounds clean. I breathe out. My mother submerged me in water when I was a baby, to give me to God. It has been a long time since I thought about God, but I think about him now. It is only natural. My thoughts finally go to Eric.  
 I have thirty seconds before my body rises with the water.  
 “R-two, respond.”  
 “Be brave, Sweets,” is what he says.  
 “You know I...” I cut myself off. _Be brave, Sweets._ Where have I heard that before? Where? Think, think, _think!_

 It hits me just as the water rises too high. Instead of kicking my feet, I push all the air from my lungs and sink to the bottom. The water muffles my ears and I close my eyes. I feel its movement over my face. I think about being spiteful and snorting the water into my lungs so it kills me faster, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I blow bubbles from my mouth. I let the water fold me in its silken arms and my lungs burn as I search myself for the knife.  
 When I was young, my father used to hold me over his head and run with me so I felt like I was flying. I remember how the air felt, gliding over my body and I am not afraid. I open my eyes.  
 Suffocating is painful. I pull the blade from its sheathe under the back of my sports bra and drive it forward into the glass. It bounces once, twice and then sticks. I use my right hand to hold it steady and my left hand as a hammer and pound the handle mercilessly. I put the knife back into its sheathe when I hear cracking and creaking. Water trickles from a tiny hole where the knife used to be and cracks spread further and further, the trickling becoming a spray. I turn away and kick the glass once with my heel and the force of the water throws my body at the ground. I gasp, swallowing water as well as air and cough, and gasp again, and hands close around my arms, and I hear her voice. My mother’s voice.  
 “Beatrice,” she says. “Beatrice, we have to move.”

 She pulls my arm across her shoulders and hauls me to my feet. She is dressed like my mother and she looks like my mother, but she is holding a gun and the determined look in her eyes is familiar. I stumble beside her over broken glass and through water, out an open doorway as flashes of my childhood pass quickly. My mother’s concentration and determination as she taught me to defend myself, as she taught me things that Max couldn’t possibly teach me. The look of a mother preparing her child for war. Dauntless soldiers lie dead next to the door and I don’t bother to look. I don’t think I could take another step if I saw the body of one of my friends.  
 My feet slip and slide on the tile as we walk down the hallway, as fast as my, still, oxygen deprived legs can carry me. When we turn the corner, she fires at the two guards standing by the door at the end. The bullets hit them both in the head and they slump to the floor. She pushes me against the wall and takes off her gray jacket.  
 She wears a sleeveless shirt and when she lifts her arms, I see the corner of a tattoo under her armpit. I never even thought to ask what it was as I was growing up.  
 “Mum,” I say, my voice strained. “Does dad know?”  
 “Yes,” she says, smiling. She tears the sleeve off her jacket and ties it tightly around my upper arm. I hadn’t noticed I’d been bleeding again. “Your father and Caleb and some others are hiding in a basement at the intersection of North and Fairfield. We have to go get them.”  
 I stare at her. I sat next to my parents at the kitchen table, twice a day for sixteen years and not once did I consider the possibility of them both preparing for this. My mother prepared me, so I knew she was prepared but I didn’t think my father would be on board. How well did I actually know my parents?  
 “There will be time for questions later,” she says. She lifts her shirt and slips a gun from under the waistband of her pants, offering it to me. Then she touches my cheek. “Now we must go.”  
 She runs to the end of the hallways and I run after her.  
 We are in the basement of Abnegation headquarters. My mother has worked there for as long as I can remember, so I’m not surprised when she leads me down a few dark hallways, up a dark staircase and into daylight again without interference. How many Dauntless guards did she shoot before she found me?  
 “How did you find me?” I ask.  
 “I’ve been watching the trains since R-one sent out the confirmation,” she replies, glancing over her shoulder at me. “I didn’t know what I would do when I found you, but it was always my intention to get you out of here.”  
 My throat feels tight. “But I left you.”  
 “You’re my daughter and you were groomed into choosing Dauntless. I don’t care about the factions, but you had to learn how to fight properly and to blend in, so we could protect those who cannot protect themselves.” She shakes her head. “Look where the factions got us. Human beings as a whole cannot be good for long before the bad creeps in and poisons us again, so we had to train the good to remove the bad. That’s where you and the other Reapers come in.”  
 She stops where the alley intersects with the road.  
 I know now isn’t the time for conversation, but there is something I need to know.  
 “Mum, what is Divergence?” I ask. “Why is Jeanine hunting us?”  
 She pushes the bullet chamber open and peers inside. Seeing how many bullets she has left then takes a few out of her pocket and reloads. I recognise her expression as the one she wears when she threads a needle.  
 “According to some, we are the solution to a problem. That problem being one they created,” she says as she shoves a bullet into place. “I was safe, doing what I could to help others like us because my mother was a Dauntless leader.  On Choosing Day, she told me to leave my faction and find a safer one. I chose Abnegation. Selflessness, bravery, they’re the same thing with some differences.” She puts an extra bullet in her pocket and stands up straighter. “I wanted you to make your own choice and you did, but only because you couldn’t remember half of your training.”  
 “I don’t understand why we’re such a threat to the leaders.”  
 “Every faction conditions its members to think and act a certain way, and most people do it. For most people, it’s not hard to learn, to find a pattern of thought that works and stay that way.” She touches the shoulder of my uninjured side and smiles. “But us, our minds move in a dozen different directions. We can’t be confined to one way of thinking and that terrifies our leaders. It means we can’t be controlled. And it means that no matter what they do, we will always cause trouble for them.”  
 I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation and I am not Dauntless.  
 I am Divergent.  
 And I cannot be controlled.  
 “Here they come,” she says, looking around the corner. I peek over her shoulder and see a few Dauntless with guns, moving to the same beat, heading toward us. My mother looks back. Far behind us is another group of Dauntless, running down the alley toward us, moving in time with one another.  
 She grabs my hands and looks me in the eyes. I watch her long eyelashes move as she blinks. I wish I had something of hers in my small, plain face. But at least I have something of hers in my brain.  
 “Go to your father and brother. The alley on the right, down to the basement. Knock twice, then three times, then six times.” She cups my cheeks. Her hands are cold; her palms are rough. “I’m going to distract them. You have to run as fast as you can.”  
 “No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”  
 She smiles. “Be brave, Beatrice. I love you.”  
 I feel her lips on my forehead and then she runs into the middle of the street. She holds her gun above her head and fires into the air three times. The Dauntless start running.  
 I sprint across the street and into the alley. As I run, I look over my shoulder to see if any Dauntless follow me. But my mother fires into the crowd of guards and they are too focused on her to notice me.  
 I whip my head over my shoulder when I hear them fire back. My feet falter and stop.  
 My mother stiffens, her back arching. Blood surges from a wound in her abdomen, dyeing her shirt crimson. A patch of blood spreads over her shoulder. I blink, and the violent red stains the inside of my eyelids. I blink again and I see her smile as she sweeps my hair trimmings into a pile.  
 She falls, first to her knees, her hands limp at her sides, and then to the pavement, slumped to the side like a rag doll. She is motionless and without breath.  
 I clamp my hand over my mouth and scream into my palm. My cheeks are hot and wet with tears I didn’t feel beginning. My blood cries out that it belongs to her and struggles to return to her, and I hear her words in my mind as I run, telling me to be brave.  
 Pain stabs through me as everything I am made of collapses, my entire world dismantled in a moment. The pavement scrapes my knees. If I lie down now, this can all be done. Maybe Eric was right, and choosing death is like exploring an unknown, uncertain place.  
 I feel Four brushing my hair back before the first simulation. I hear him telling me to be brave. I hear Eric and Max telling me to be brave. I hear my mother telling me to be brave.  
 The Dauntless soldiers turn as if moved by the same mind. Somehow I get up and start running.  
 I am brave.

 Three Dauntless soldiers pursue me. They run, almost in unison, their footsteps echoing in the alley. One of them fires and I dive, scraping my palms on the ground. The bullet hits the brick wall to my right and pieces of brick spray everywhere. I throw myself around the corner and click a bullet into the chamber of my gun.  
 They killed my mother. I point the gun into the alley but two shots ring out before my finger is on my trigger.  
 Just one set of footsteps now. I hold the gun out with both hands and stand at the end of the alley, pointing at the Dauntless soldier. My finger squeezes the trigger, but not hard enough to fire. The man walking toward me is not a man, he is a boy. A shaggy-haired bot with a crease between his eyebrows.   
 Will. He stops walking and lifts his left hand up to his ear.  
 “R-one, this is R-seven. I have R-three, safe and sound.”  
 My own comms unit crackles to life as Max’s voice comes over the receiver. “R-three respond.”  
 “This is R-three, over.”   
 “Status report?” He asks.  
 I mull it over before answering. “You promised my parents would be safe.”  
 “And they are,” he replies.  
 “Then why is my mother lying dead in the middle of a street after being fired upon by numerous mindless drones?” I can’t contain the hatred and malice that leaks into my voice. “I told you R-one, if anything happened to my parents, I’d tear Erudite apart. They want a war? I’ll give them a war that’ll rival the Purity War! You know I could end this in a matter of minutes. All it’d take is one bullet and the whole city goes boom.”  
 I turn to Will and point at him with barely concealed rage, “And you! You complete asshole, why didn’t you tell me you were a Reaper? Especially considering you’ve been working with R-one! I almost had a cardiac arrest this morning trying to copy you.” I grab him with both hands and pull him toward me. I sigh as I hug him, “I am so happy you’re alive.”


	21. Authors note!! Must read!!!!!!!

Lads, ladies, avid readers of the bullshit I write. 

My sincerest apologies for practically ignoring my writings for the last while.   
My son is the most destructive 2 year old I have ever met and my laptop suffered because of it. There's are no keys on the keyboard and he poured a lot of juice over it.   
However, I have a new one on the way which will not be left unattended while he's on the prowl. Here's hoping I can get it set up and have everything transferred by the end of the week and if not, I'm pretty sure I'll stab myself in the foot!  
Thank you for sticking with me and please send prayers to my new laptop, it's gonna need it if it's to survive my son's childhood!


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